


The Midnight Confessionals

by EmerladCity



Category: Original Work
Genre: Assault, But not the main character--it's a side plot, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hallucinations, Heavily based on Yandere Simulator, Hysteria, Insanity, Love Triangles, Love-motivated murder, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please tell me if I get any factual Japanese culture errors--I'll fix them I swear, SO, Stalkers everywhere, Stalking, Takes place in an unnamed city in Japan, There's your warning on not-so-fun times ahead, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 92,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerladCity/pseuds/EmerladCity
Summary: It started with a single glance, which lead to a conversation, which lead to an unlikely friendship. Love at first sight, naturally.The world began to end when the first body showed up. The first clues were between the lines of a text.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our protagonist is awoken by a nightmare and decides to brush it off. After all, there are more pressing matters...

            I don't usually dream. I know, as much as I spew that dreams are important and that everything has to mean something, but the fact of the matter is that I don't actually know this well for myself. I don't usually dream, but when I do, they're usually the most intense experiences I never remember.

            Thunder rumbled above and shook my very being to its core. Rain thrashed, waves smacked, and the wind bellowed in outrage and agony. These things all swept me around and around as I cut through the air, falling into the chasm of the endless ocean below. I whipped around and around, facing every which direction to try and get a sense of where I was, but I felt as if--no, I _was_ watching in the third person as my frantic body plummetted into the watery grave below. Despite this, though, I didn't feel panic or fear. I watched as my body hit the surface of a gargantuan wave and suddenly, my perspective changed. I winced, and my body copied my movements. It seemed as if I were in my own body once more. A blink later I found myself sinking beneath the waves, in no hurry to reach the surface again. The storm may have rage above where there was oxygen to spare, but it was calmer beneath all that.

            As I sank, it was only then that I noticed something was protruding from my abdomen. Looking down, it was only then that fear began to tear through me. A large blade had torn through my gut and, even if I still felt nothing, that didn't mean I could panic any less--After all, it seemed blood loss was still a very real concern at the time. I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my nerves, only to get a mouthful of water. Rejecting the liquid, I huffed and puffed in the water in an attempt to flush it out in exchange for air but to no avail. Laughter echoed through my mind and I looked around only to find that a hand had now attached itself to the blade protruding from my abdomen--and attached to that was a full person hidden in shadow, eyes practically glowing in the shadows. Their twisted, hollow grin also seemed to glow and soon, besides myself and the waves, it was the only thing I could see. I tried to grab ahold of something, anything, that I could use to pull myself away from my attacker or maybe even hit them with. My fingertips found nothing but water. I tried to scream, to breathe, to _something_ , but more and more water filled my lungs.

            This attempt was met with more crinkling laughter from my attacker. Ripping the blade from my stomach, they neared me ever so slowly, grabbing my hair in one hand, the sword in the other with the tip of its blade at my neck. At this point, I was crying. Choking on water and my own panicked sobs, shadowy liquid spilled from the cavity in my abdomen and joined the shadow, slowly making my surroundings to black.

            Though, not before my neck had been sliced through.

* * *

 

            I realized I was crying before I realized I was awake.

            Slowly, I opened my eyes and carefully sat up, taking deep breaths and thoroughly enjoying the air I received, in an attempt to calm myself down. Once my heart ceased to feel like a steam hammer in my chest, I rubbed my eyes and turned to look at the pink and cyan clock on my nightstand...It was only four o'clock in the morning. Go figure. Taking another deep breath, I fell back onto the bed and lied down. From there, I assessed my surroundings, hoping for something to distract myself with for the next two hours before I had to get ready. Sleeping was most definitely not an option anymore, so something else would have to do.

            Same old plain room, same old plain stuff. Normally, I would feel happy to have something so normal. Something I could call casual and expected--a retreat that was never changing. That doesn't always mean different is bad, though. With another quick look around the room as my eyes adjusted to the pitch black, I reminded myself to try and rearrange the furniture sometime. Rolling out of bed, I groaned and left the safe warmth of my room to the rest of the freezing house. Carefully taking one stairstep at a time as to not fall over, around the banister, through the sitting area, and to the kitchen, I finally held my eyes closed to avoid the harsh sting the action of turning on the lights brought.

            My morning routine brought my mind back from space and into reality once more. It was Monday, which meant school, clubs, and the late shift at the Route 66 Diner. Not that I necessarily needed a job, per se, but I had thought it was important to gain real-world experience while I could, living as if I depended on that job. 

            That was how I wanted to live at the time. That was what I was known for in my high school, anyways. Emiri Shuisen--the girl who lived in Hollow Hill, the house constructed in the middle of a foresty hill not far from the school she attended. That school was Sukora High School--a private academy with a record as prestigious as maybe one of those fancy American colleges like Yale or Harvard. The rumors were that I was a poor, orphaned girl that had only made it into the school on a chance scholarship given out of pity. Like most rumors, this wasn't true. Dad was a man who was determined to do great things, so he left Japan as soon as he was able to so he could pay attention to what the biggest corporate executives were doing in the west. On the way to greatness, he met my mom, who was the daughter of an influential producer--together, Mom, Dad, and Grandpa started a record company under Mom's family name--Drekkar. Almost everyone these days was familiar with the Drekkar Family Records Studio, but because Mom took Dad's name and Dad played the corporate game behind the curtain while Grandpa covered media appearances, it wasn't easy to see that I was someone of significant heritage. Nor did I want it to be--I wanted to be normal. I didn't want to live in anyone's shadow--I wanted to go and make a legacy on my own. That was why I asked to start high school by studying abroad in Dad's home country of Japan. I studied the language endlessly for what felt like years, becoming skilled and fluent in the language out of pure spite and determination. With that, I was given Dad's modest family home to stay in while in Japan. 

            With a lack of any living relatives in Japan or on Dad's side of the family in general, I found myself alone and finally free to make my own life. At least, I thought so. Secretaries of both Mom, Dad, and Grandpa often stopped by to check on me and it seemed that everytime my checking account had under 40,000 yen, it would "somehow" fill up again. But, that was fine. Someone as dedicated as I was to get the "living on your own" experience made sure to keep tabs of what money you were paid and what money you still owed and worked solely off of those numbers alone.

            Regardless of money, though, I was still that weird girl who lived in Hollow Hill. That part, I didn't mind. After all, I had made it for two years already just fine living there and, I was proud to say, had become the president of Sukora's Occult Club. It doesn't sound like much, but the club activities _did_ expand past trying to summon demons or mythological entities. I liked to think that we expanded beyond that, even into the realm of mythology and folklore. Maybe even Cryptozoology, if you wanted to stretch it that far. I had resolved at the beginning of the year to prove that and show a love for all things paranormal or out of the ordinary. This was going to be the year--the year where I proved I could do great things and the year I could truly set myself up for a great college. That was what I kept telling myself to get through pushed-over lunch trays and flung gum wads.

            Those thoughts in mind, I set out for school two hours after having woken up from the dream I had already forgotten about. The path to school was quiet, peaceful even. In the faint, ever so slowly growing sunlight, I felt a presence suddenly beside me as I walked to school.

            "Didn't think you'd be up this early," I admitted, a smile spreading across my features. "But I can't say I don't mind the company of the coolest friend in the world...Just don't tell Lenpai. He'd sit in his emo corner all day if he heard." I giggled, turning to walk backward beside my best friend of several years now, Seskiel Kuran. 

            "Too late! I did hear it!" My eyes widened in surprise as I turned around. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. There, in the flesh, was Len Byers standing next to his sister, Rin Byers, and good friend, Stefan Mikhailov. He was pouting and crossing his arms, feigning tears already. "It's good to know how you really feel, now!" He cried dramatically, striking an equally sensational pose.

            "Len, my love, no!" I cried, reaching out dramatically. "It's not what you think!"

            "No, it's too late!" He turned, bowing his head and allowing his bangs to fall over his eyes. "We're through, Emi!"

            "Wait--now you're trying to steal my man?" A heavily accented voice accused and I turned to Stefan in mock-surprise.

            "It's still not what you think!" I pouted, sniffling. I tried to begin protesting once more, only to feel my feet leave the ground "Wha-?!" I looked to see Seskiel raise an eyebrow, lifting me over his shoulder. "Hey! I know what I'm doing! I'm totally not digging the hole I made deeper! This isn't fair-! You're cheating!" I struggled, punching his back playfully, but soon fell limp. "Fine, then. Carry me to school, peon!" I commanded, pointing towards the school as best as I could. Below me, I felt a slight breath, knowing that was the closest to a laugh Seskiel would ever go in others' presence. I grinned...it was hard to even get a reaction like that from him.

            "Peon? What are you?" Rin asked as Seskiel had taken the lead in the walk to school. "A princess?"

            "Please," I began. "I'm but a duchess. Len, on the other hand, is a queen." I shot him a playfully pointed look. "A drama queen. I'm surprised you haven't joined the drama club yet...you're a great actor, you know." I put my elbow on Seskiel's back, using my hand to support my head.

            "If I joined the drama club, the rest of the clubs would miss out on my skills and beauty." Len shrugged nonchalantly, acting serious while trying not to laugh. "They would be devastated, losing the chance to have a gem such as myself." 

            "Not as beautiful as me!" Another boy cried, sprinting towards our friend group. Toby Porter. The school's local kamidere. He stopped just short of Len and beamed haughtily. "You know, Shuisen, you actually almost look tall when Kuran carries you."

            "No...more beautiful!" Len declared, sealing his fate and ensuring another argument would break out. "Besides, teasing Emi about being small is my job!" I huffed, pouting. I was fairly proud of my 142-centimeter height...even if the only one relatively close to my height was Rin at a whole 160 centimeters...I felt my world shift once more as Seskiel put me down in front of the entrance to the school.

             "Thanks, Sessy...Think I could catch a ride home later, too?" I teased, grinning. The ever-so-slight curling of his features told me that no, in fact, I would definitely not receive a ride home at this rate. "Awww, come on...don't be so...cross." A laugh escaped me when I saw the slight recoil in his features. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding...I'll catch you later in Biology, ok? Remember, we have the occult club today! We're going to be learning about Mothman and theorizing his whereabouts." I winked, heading off to my locker and silently leaving my friends behind. I smiled softly, the memory of my disturbing morning thoroughly gone from my mind. I busied myself in preparing for the day, grabbing what I needed, changing my shoes, the works. However, something stopped me short before I closed my locker.

            I felt as if something were piercing my back. I repressed a shiver, my back locking in its place. Ever so slowly, I shifted my head to look around. The first thing I saw, despite her being across the hallway, were her eyes. I would describe them as emotionless...dead, maybe empty. Except, they weren't. There was one thing in her black, shark-like eyes: cold, unrelenting hatred. It was as if she thought she could make others feel uncomparable agony just by looking at them. I knew this girl had been around school before, but I never had a chance to catch her name. My heart seemed to stop and pound in my ears at the same time. I froze.

            Something seemed to snap and the curse she was seemingly trying to put on me with her eyes was broken. She looked surprised that I had noticed her. Her entire demeanor seemed to change in an instant--she smiled warmly and waved, quickly walking away. Her long black hair swished behind her, her now-pretty-and-calm expression framed by neatly cut bangs and locks of hair. I felt as if the air had left me in that moment, but I quickly shook my head as if it would fling the memory and the feeling it left from my mind. I slammed my locker shut and, without looking for anyone else, I began walking to the occult club room to plan club activities in the free hour we had before classes started.

            Perhaps, I thought, it was time I began a journal. Maybe then, if I looked back, these things wouldn't seem as strange as I had originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins our tale. What starts off as a joke fic for our crappy minecraft build and OCs turns into a semi-serious novel~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More friends are introduced, and so is drama...is there a love triangle in the works?

            A smooth current rushed past me, sweeping my hair away from my face. A content smile spread across my face and I lent a hand to the current, reaching forward to caress it gently. Allowing the soft rush of water to sweep me forth, I soon found myself in an underwater cave-like structure. The filling my lungs was an unfamiliar feeling, perhaps even an uncomfortable one, but it was pleasant being able to sit on the mock shore of the tiny alcove, letting my feet dip into the fluorescent and gentle waves. The walls of the grove were rough, but the soft stone made it possible to lean against it in relaxation and enjoy the sensation. As long as I was away from the storm, I was safe. This I knew, but I lacked knowledge of anything else. Here, anything beyond the currents was strange--foreign. Perhaps even unimaginable. The only thing there was the storm. 

            Perhaps, though, I had become too unstrung. I hardly noticed a bright red, burning string cut through the water slowly, as if creeping on its prey, towards me. Soon, it shot forth and tangled itself around my ankle. I held my breath, too surprised by the attack to even scream. Before I knew it, I was being dragged into the water once more. The current seemed panicked. It reached towards me, embracing me with such ferocity I thought it would cut through my skin. It was trying to save me. But the string held on with a vice grip. Soon, I noticed more strings surrounding me to grab at anything they could--one wrapped around my wrist, another around my hips, one even found my shoulder. They all pulled me further and further into the cruel depths. 

            True panic and fear didn't reach me until a string caught my neck. I gasped, reaching forth the best I could, trying to grab something, anything, to stabilize myself. I tried to scream, but the only thing to leave my mouth was air.

            I reached the bottom sooner than I thought. It was also much, much brighter than I had originally thought. I could see the waves and currents clearly, as well as the raging storm still ahead. I could also see the bright, glowing, burning ropes. Despite having reached the bottom, they still tugged on me, drawing me closer to the seabed. I was pinned, unable to move, and the strings were quickly suffocating and cutting into me. It didn't hurt, but the sensation still made my body wrench in agony and disgust, still trying to get away. I realized too soon that the sand had begun to part from the pressure of the ropes. I was being dragged beneath the earth. Sand filled my mouth as silent screeches left my mouth, and soon enough my vision became obscured. After, I couldn't move from the weight of the sand pressing on me. I felt consciousness slipping away, the sand and spun strings of fire absorbing my very being and dissolving my psyche.

            "It's for the better," It all seemed to explain lovingly in their inanimate silence. "We're only doing this to protect you. We love you more than anything else." Above, the currents screeched in outrage at their lies.

* * *

 

            "Miss Shuisen!" I felt a stinging sensation in the back of my head--the result of a slap. My back whipped straight up, regaining a perfect, well-practiced posture. "I'm sorry to distract you from trivial matters, but if you cannot find it in yourself to respect my class, I believe I would like to have a serious talk with you...on Saturday. This is the fifth time in the last two weeks. I've given you several warnings, but it seems you cannot correct your behavior."

            I stared at her wide-eyed, barely comprehending what she was saying. My mind was still reeling from what I had just seen. Or, rather, not seen? I felt as if I had just been ripped from my own body and placed in another, forced to pick up where the last host had left off with no direction or instruction as to how. I gaped stupidly, trying to understand her words.

            "I believe that, perhaps, a Saturday detention will help you fix your behavior." However, with the end of her words, the bell rang. The students around me began moving, but I remained glued to my spot, still very much out of mind and body and not completely understanding what the Sociology teacher just said to me. The woman huffed, marching back up to the front of the room to busy herself with her laptop.

            "Emi...are you alright?" Snapped from my trance, I turned to look at the blonde next to me. She was frowning and seemed to be genuinely concerned. I blinked several times in response, standing up to pick up my stuff. "You've been falling asleep in class a lot lately...it's kind of been worrying some of us."

            "She's right. Are you not sleeping well?" A stern, accented voice lightly inquired. It was at that time that my thoughts seemed to come back to me once more. That's right...I had the last class of the day with Stefan and Rin. I looked over at the Russian boy and smiled. 

            "I'm fine! I've just been having these crazy dreams lately...I don't like going back to sleep after weird dreams because that usually just makes more weird dreams pop up. I'm actually starting to miss not dreaming." I laughed awkwardly, slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder. The two didn't look convinced. "I'm serious! I'm honestly fine...I barely even remember the dreams afterward, anyway." Rolling my eyes, I followed Rin and Stefan out of the classroom. 

            "Whatever you say...as long as you're taking care of yourself." Rin chimed, still sounding unconvinced but not pushing the matter further.

            "Hey, you're one to speak...you keep hanging around Toby, and he's not much good for you. Sometimes I think he makes you lose more sleep than my new weird dreams do for me." I pouted and Rin rolled her eyes, smiling once more.

            "I can manage Toby. Besides, Em, you know it's ok to talk about stuff like this with us, right? We want to help you...and if this thing is genuinely causing you more harm than good, you can at least vent to us about it. Do you remember what the dreams are about?"

            "No...I don't remember anything. I never remember dreams...I just know they happened. I think this one was scary, though. The only things I can remember in the dream was floating..." I trailed off, looking at the floor in frustration and concentration.

            "Don't burst a vessel trying to think about it." Stefan patted my head, trying to look comforting through his normally-stern face. "Weird dreams or not, you can't let this mess up your life outside of sleep." I sighed, nodding, realizing he was right. My shoulders slumped, having realized how condescending and dark the conversation was getting. To remedy this, I took a deep breath and practically reinflated myself to hold a more confident and cheery stance.

            "Well, let's look on the bright side! At least now, I'll be wide awake for work!" I enthused, wiggling my eyebrows playfully at them and receiving a few laughs for the effort. The atmosphere seemed to lighten dramatically. Good. It was nice, seeing them happy and distracted from the obvious. We continued our trek through the school to our respective clubs (except Stefan...he didn't have a club, but he enjoyed spectating and wandering around the school), still chatting happily amongst each other. The feeling stopped short, though, when I bumped face first into a boy as I rounded the corner. My eyes widened and rose my hands to pat his chest, where my face had collided.

            "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you ok?" I asked, face turning a bright red in embarrassment. 

            "O-oh, I'm fine! Are you ok, miss?" He asked, awkwardly running a hand through his hair.

            "I'm fine--I'm more worried about yo-"

            "Em, you're acting as if you just accidentally kicked his dog." Stefan stopped me short, patting my shoulder to stop me. He knew me well enough to know that if I wasn't stopped soon, I might have begun rambling. I sent him a sheepish smile of appreciation.

            "Dewey--why are you going this way? We have to be at the Cooking Club in a little bit." Rin questioned, tilting her head. The boy seemed surprised by the inquiry and interactions between us and began to stumble over his words a bit.

            "Hana spilled some food...I was going to find some cleaning supplies to help mop it up. Turns out the kitchen is out of soap..." He trailed off awkwardly, still looking a bit embarrassed. Rin quickly nodded in understanding and waved him off, telling him to hurry. Just like that, we continued on our way to the club rooms. We stopped by the Cooking Club room first, bidding Rin a goodbye before starting towards the Occult Club room. When we got there, Seskiel was already waiting patiently. I grinned, rushing over to lightly punch his arm. His features twitched slightly upwards--the closest to a smile anyone else besides me had ever really seen, as far as I knew. 

            "What's on your agenda for the club today, Emi?" Stefan leaned against the doorframe, looking into the darker room contently. I zipped about, setting up maps and diagrams of Mothman spottings and theories.

            "Studying the whereabouts of Mothman! If the group likes it, we can spend several more days on pinpointing an exact location. Just be warned--if I or anyone else in the club goes missing after this, it was either enemies of Mothman, the government trying to keep Mothman hidden, or Mothman himself." I joked, finishing the decorations for today's meeting. 

            "Did I hear Mothman?!" Keith, a freshman in the club burst through the doorway, eyes wide in fascination and excitement. Stefan jumped, letting out a tiny squeaking sound before promptly tumbling into Seskiel. Stefan sat there on top of him for a second, his face bright red before letting out a quiet string of apologies and getting off of him. Seskiel seemed jarred but didn't mind much. My eyes widened when I noticed the faint stain of red across his cheeks. A smirk spread across my face knowingly.

            "Why yes, my dear young Keith, you did! Prepare for the greatness, the mystery, the spectacular spectacle that is Mothman!" I enthused, lightly stepping over to nudge Stefan. "Want to join us today? If we have time, I think I might do some astrology stuff...I could use someone who knows a lot of space stuff today." I winked. His face turned a bit red.

            "Afraid not. I promised Len that I would take him skating today. I cannot leave my beloved." He joked, seeming a bit relieved to have an excuse. I squinted, not quite buying it, but shrugged. He didn't see the way Seskiel's features slightly morphed with distaste, but I noticed in an instant.

            "I love that you guys joke about being in a relationship all the time, but you know you can come to the club sometimes, too, right?" I tried in an attempt to lessen the blow for Seskiel. I didn't exactly want Stefan to ditch Len, but at the same time, their situation was becoming exponentially clear to me. I was never one for drama (except for the fake, playful kind or the kind in TV shows) and I hated where this was going, but...at the same time, I felt excited

            "Of course I do! I'll come back another time." Stefen smiled and, with that, he was off. As soon as he left, I patted Seskiel's back lightly, sending my silent condolences, and began to greet incoming members of the club. Keith, by far, seemed the most excited by the topic we'd be covering today while club members like Hinata and Touma were more subdued, as they always were. Kuuderes, right? At this thought, I hid a giggle through a smile at my club members.

            After our club activities ended, I cleaned up the room with the help of Seskiel and began to get ready to leave and head to my job at the Diner.

            "U-Uh...excuse me..." I jumped a bit in surprise, gathering my bag and looking at the voice that had disturbed my daily ritual. My heart froze in my chest--it was the girl from earlier. Seskiel, as if feeling my heart freeze, looked at me in confusion and worry--at least, the closest he'd ever get to an actual facial expression. I gulped and gave the girl a smile.

            "How can I help you?"

            "I want to apologize for this morning!" She gave a deep bow before looking up at me with an absolutely mortified expression. "I'm trying out for a villain role in the play, and I was going over my lines in my head this morning! I must have been making the facial expression for the lines, too..." She stood back up again, genuinely apologetic. I felt like I could melt with relief right there.

            After accepting Thana's, as I had learned her name, apology, she left the building with Seskiel and I. Leaving the building, we went our separate ways and Seskiel walked me to my job before leaving to attend to his own matters. I had the feeling it would have something to do with Stefan and, in turn, Len. After all--more often than not, those two were together. As for myself, I quickly changed into my 50's American poodle skirt and white button-down uniform, tying my hair up before diving into my waitress work to cover for my coworker leaving work. While it was a busy night, I found that I could still have fun with it. At one point in the night, I danced to the ridiculous vintage tunes with my coworkers while we worked, joking around and, perhaps, even acting like a stereotypical group of friends from the era. I found that things like that--the little things--made the difficulties at school worth it. The homework stress, dealing with my parent's cronies, always having something to do, jerks at school, delinquents, living in the Hill House, all of it was worth it for the little moments I had with my friends and, yes, perhaps I could even consider them family with how much we took care of each other and stood, unified as an unstoppable force. It felt like we could do anything. 

            "Hey, girl?" The night shift chef called over to me and I looked up, skipping over. We didn't have any tables at the moment and I was just about to head home. "You be careful, ok? There's been some wicked stuff goin' around. Bodies popping up everywhere...Someone thinks that the shady guys down the street have something to do with it, so take care while walking home, will you?" I smiled, a bit shook from the information but nodded nonchalantly.

            "I will, Mr. Nakamura. You should be safe, too. Good luck with the shift. Cya tomorrow!" With that, I left to find the train that would take me closest to home before I began my trek back to the Hill House.

            Once I finally got home, I breathed a sigh of relief and allowed myself in, locking the door behind me, and settled in my room for the night to get my homework done. I had eaten dinner at work (a meal I paid for, thanks) and finished up as much as I could before finally heading to sleep. However, that wasn't before I swore I heard heavy breathing. Pausing, I turned to look at my window just in time to see a figure in it disappear from view. I stood, frozen in shock, my face going pale. I went to my bedroom door and locked it and made sure the window was latched carefully before hesitantly laying down in bed, trying to go to sleep.

            However, sleep did not come easily. Not until about 3 o'clock in the morning when staying up was too much to bear. When sleep came, it was just as rough the night before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just let it be known that this story is based on the shenanigans of my friends and me--it uses their characters and they act as my beta readers. Love you guys! Hope the fic isn't too cringe for you and the other readers...First fic, so...please leave a comment to tell me how I'm doing so far! ^^


	3. Chapter 3

            When you don’t dream, a strange sensation takes control of you. You’re surrounded by nothingness: a vast emptiness consumes you and you find that the void isn’t just a thing edgy teenagers use to make their soul comparable to a feasible concept. It is something that consumes you--it is a being and a place that takes your mortal soul and renders the substance to irrelevancy and that you are not only in the void, but you _are_ the void. The next thing you don't exactly realize is that you are where you are--you feel as if you aren't anything, yet you're everything in that vacuum. You don’t realize anything; nothing exists, and nothing doesn’t exist. Everything is hidden in the darkness, just beyond the shadows, yet nothing is there simultaneously.

            At least, that was my typical experience with dreamless nights. That night, though...it was different. It felt as if the void was suffocating. As if something just beyond my comprehension was attempting to pull me down and drown me out. I tried to scream--but I had no voice to do so. Though my many nights spent in the void yielded me some skill in deciphering the differences between each shade--jet, ebony, charcoal, midnight, grease, obsidian, sable--all different shades of the shapes that lay in the place my mind goes during dreamless nights. However, despite this, I could see nothing. My eyes and voice rendered useless and lacking the hands in my mind to feel, I could only taste warm iron on my tongue as I bit the inside of my cheek and inhale pure shadow as I sputtered to scream or breathe, goddamnit, breathe!

            Though not even my form, itself, never held many colors here, I realized that not even my own form was visible. The charcoal that was once my skin had faded to a deep, deep void and I ceased to be.

            But I _knew_ I was there. I could _feel_ it. The pulling urge of the strange yearning force, the chill and stupor that was the void of my surroundings, hell, even my own skin. I could feel it all yet nothing was there. Who was I? Why was I there? Who else was here with me? Why won’t they let me go? Leave me alone...leave me alone, leave me alone, leavemealone, leavemealone, leavemealone, leave me alone,

l e a v e m e a l o n e , l e a v e m e a l o n e , l e a v e m e a l o n e , l e A V E M E A L O N E , L E A V E M E A L O N E , L E A V E M E A L O N E , L E A V E M E A L O N E, L E A V E M E A L O N E , L E A V E M E A L O N E ,

 

..  
Ļ̻̪̰̹͔̞͖͎̺̌̓̂̃̓E̶̛̮̳̥̳͚̰̤̩̾̽̓̆͐͐̓A̺̹̪̯͕̫̾̆̌̈̋̄ͅV̖͓̜͇̣̟͖̣͑̀͐̆̇͘͜͠Ȩ̷͈̮̫̖̺̩̻̈́̃́͑̋̕͘͡͞.̨̛̬̮̰̗͊̌̒̌̔̍̕ M͍̦̱͔͓͕̰̰̘̀̍̊̂̏̈́͢Ę̴̧̤͇̱̺͖͑͐͗̃̏̆͢͝.̷͉̟̗͈̰̱̹̃̋̌̿̽͂̚̕͜ͅͅ Ạ͕̮͎̟̦͚̓͊̂͡͡ͅL̸̨̧̹̹̟̱͂̓̐͗̏̄̋͘͜͠Ỏ̴̡̞̫͕͋̌̀͜͝͝͞N̴̛̫̜̙͓̦͎͔̈̍̅̈̈̃̆Ȩ̯̥̲̼̥̟̓͌̐̃̐͘͞.̶̮̞͇̠̱̭͔̍̍́̈̾̐͜͟   
.   
.

* * *

 

            My thrashing ceased when I thudded onto the floor. Gasping, I continued to squirm and twitch in agony until I was finally able to steady my nerves once more. The room that had seemed to be spinning upon my awakening had suddenly jolted to a halt, threatening to send me tumbling again. I might have if I weren’t already on the floor. Dawn’s breaking light drifted through the small forest surrounding my home and eventually through my window, creating peppered freckles of sunlight to illuminate the room ever so slightly.

            At least I had woken up at a decent hour, unlike yesterday’s ungodly wait through the wee hours of the morning. Sighing grumpily, I pouted and shook it off, not remembering what had me so shaken in the first place. It was just another empty dream, as always.

            Getting up, I went through my usual routine. By the time I was out the door, I felt my energy return at the peaceful morning walk to school. Though taking the train was always an option, I preferred to get up early and make the strenuous walk with Seskiel. It was good exercise, and I enjoyed the quiet time to find the motivation to make it through the day and truly wake up without needing coffee.

            Speak of the devil…

            “You know, you think you would’ve surprised me by now,” I began, turning to face the boy that had begun silently trailing after me. “But you haven’t. Either you’re the worst sneaker in history, or I’m just that good.” I grinned mischievously and he grunted in response, trying to hold back the ghost of a smile.

            “No, I’m not that desensitized. Maybe I’m just that cool. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to you.” I turned back around and fell back to walk side by side with him to nudge him with my elbow. Now, the smile was there. It was only the slight upturn of the corners of his lips, but I knew that to him, it was almost like a full grin. Now, if seeing your best friend smile because you made them wasn’t a reason to be motivated to make it through the rest of the day, I didn’t know what was.

            The walk was peaceful after that, with Seskiel allowing me to run my motor mouth for the entirety of the time while he silently added his two sense every so often. It had really almost always been that way since I first moved to Japan in freshman year. He just made sense, verbal communication or not.

            Eventually, as usual, the rest of my friends met up with us from their own route to school and began chatting away. The lockers were the next stop of the day and that went the same as always--except for, maybe, the tap on my shoulder. I immediately froze.

            Now, I suppose at this point, I should’ve gotten used to this by now. Back in America, I used to almost laugh at the anti-bullying campaigns because I had just never seen it happen. I was always in a stable crowd--never the one to be targeted before. Here, though, things were different. They had been in almost every other aspect. So, in retrospect, what was coming shouldn’t have been a surprise.

            “Shuisen. We gotta talk to you.” Her name was Himari Rio. She was fairly popular amongst the seniors and wore bright blue eye contacts. She was absolutely stunning and entirely out of my league. Under different circumstances, I might’ve had a crush on her. But now, those false blues filled me with dread. I looked over to Seskiel out of the corner of my eye. He was leaned against a wall, giving a look to Stefan I knew too well for him. I closed my eyes and gulped.

            My main thoughts were that I shouldn’t bother him. Carefully, trying not to create a scene, I followed Himari with evident apprehension.

            By the time I was able to arrive at my first class, I was thoroughly reminded that I was on the outside looking in. While the only ones who had ever gotten physical in the confrontations with her friends, Himari had only ever been verbal. I’d like to think I saw regret in her eyes when she was rude or when she watched her friends throw me against a wall. I’d like to think that she was peer pressured into this. But I knew better. Himari, sharing the first class with me, slapped the back of my head as she made her way to her seat.

            “Witch of Hollow Hill...of course the weird American girl acts so weirdly. So, what are you going to do today in your little witch cult? Make voodoo dolls?” She asked almost as if she were asking casually. The only hint of an ulterior motive was the slight quirked brow that revealed her cynical and more-clever-than-she-seems nature.

            “...I live in the Hill House. There’s a difference.” Was my carefully-constructed reply. Seskiel and Len should’ve been here by now. But, then, I thought it was irrelevant and shoved the thought to the back of my mind. I was strong--I didn’t need to rely on anyone, much less them. Not that they wouldn’t have thrown down for me in a heartbeat, but hubris was a hell of a drug.

            “And that difference would be?”

            “Hollow Hill refers to the area and the gigantic, should-be-a-mountain hill behind it. It’s hollow because stories say mythical creatures live underneath it. That, and y’know, there’s a house in it. Hill House is the house in the hill. Fairly self-explanatory.” I explained. I attempted to keep my normal enthusiastic tone. I thought “winning” would be showing her that what she and her friends did before school days when they had the opportunity didn’t bother me. Before Himari was able to respond, Seskiel walked in with Len, looking like they were having a fairly awkward conversation. Seskiel immediately saw that we had been talking and his eyes hardened with an intense resolve. He pointedly sat next to me, never taking his sharp gaze off of Himari. If it were possible to go pale and red-faced simultaneously, that would’ve described Himari perfectly. I let out a sigh and leaned over the side of my desk to rest my head on his shoulder. A silent “thank you”. He closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly. A silent acknowledgment.

            It had really almost always been that way, and I never minded. Neither did he. I’d like to think that he appreciated it. A ying-yang type of relationship, almost.

            Len sat on my other side, casting Himari a confused glance.

            “What was that about?” He whispered. “Something happen between you and Mari?” I often forgot that he, Rin, Stefan, and Mari were fairly close at one point or another. Maybe then, too, but the memory seemed to slip past me regardless.

            “Ah, nah. I’m fine.” I winked, pulling my head off of Seskiel’s shoulder to prop my head up over the desk with my elbow. “She’s cute though.” It wasn’t a lie, at least. “I think she saw me staring and went all tsundere.” I quietly joked, grinning. Len snorted, shaking his head.

            “Don’t be a weeb, Em!”

            “...Is it possible to be a weeb when you live in Japan?” I raised an amused eyebrow, musing.

            “Gasp...that must mean you’re an Otaku!” He mock-declared, looking disgusted. I let out a laugh and shook my head. The conversation between the three of us continued like this for a while, easily flowing, and occasionally I’d let my eyes wander to the doors, wondering when the teachers would get here. For a second, I almost felt as if I saw someone glaring at me...While that wouldn’t be surprising, I quickly brushed it off. Whoever it was, (someone who was probably a friend of Himari’s) was already gone. No use fussing over nothing, right? The conversation continued.

            At long last, the teacher finally entered the room. She looked frazzled, her face pale. Something was instantly wrong. This woman, our homeroom teacher, wasn’t usually so upset-looking. She was a sunny woman who helped brighten mornings around school, despite being alone in the school hallways during mornings and despite Himari and her friends. My stomach churned in dread.

            “Alright, class, I have a few announcements before we begin. This is a fairly serious topic, and I need you all to maintain composure for me while we sort things out and investigations take place.” She began, more to steady herself than anything, it seemed. “We have terrible news...It seems that last night, the janitor that was thought to have gone missing last week was found...deceased in the gardening club’s garden this morning while one of the girls was working on planting some new produce for the cooking club. We all ask that you not be alarmed, as the authorities have been contacted and are now currently investigating the crime. School will end early today, but when we come back, you will most likely be questioned by an officer to assert possible witnesses in the case.”

            She kept going on and on about everything--the day’s agenda, what to expect in all of our classes, what the clubs would do with a shortened day--but I heard none of it. It felt as if someone had reached a hand into my abdomen and began to dig through me. This had never happened before. I hadn’t even realized I had been lightly shaking until Seskiel gently patted my hand. Broken from my stupor, I silently nodded to him in thanks and continued to try and listen to my homeroom teacher.

            Though, it was hard to listen when everyone in the room had three questions on their mind: Who did it? Would they be caught, or would they get away? Who was next?

            I silently prayed to whoever was listening that the answer to the last question was “no one.”


	4. Chapter 4

Today it was a memory. It was clear in the back of my mind, ripped fresh to the surface to assault my senses. Only once in my life had I witnessed something as gruesome as murder.

If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve been the one that wound up dead.

When I was a freshman and had just moved, the taunting began early. Rumors were that the Hill House was haunted--that whoever went into the house would be punished or even killed. Naturally, when I moved into our old family home, those familiar with the rumor took it as an omen to stay away from me. At least, most did. Others decided it was a direct reason to confront me and to let their aggressions out on something more...acceptable. No one would pay attention to the girl who lived in the haunted house.

So when the dare had come to find an actual haunted house in the forest beyond my own that was also a part of the rumors--to prove that someone else’s home was the subject of haunting rather than my own, I grasped at the opportunity. A backpack of food, survival materials, a map, and a flashlight later, I was on my way into the woods that summer.

They only began to get worried when no one saw anything from me for a week.

Something you should know about me is that I’m awful with directions. I didn’t bring a clock so I could never innately tell where the sun was...besides, it hurts to stare at that thing. I was young and stupid, so it never occurred to me to actually utilize what little skills I had besides finding water. When I finally stumbled across an old, just young enough to not crumble in on itself house, I was practically ecstatic. In my rush to attain shelter, I’d almost forgotten my original quest. As I reached the door, I stopped short, memory rushing back. I’d grabbed my flashlight, slowly opening the door to inspect the dark hovel. When I stepped across the threshold, the cold air seemed to immediately freeze my being, gluing me to my spot. It felt as if a thousand tiny eyes were watching me. I took another careful step towards what appeared to be a kitchen, hoping to maybe find something of use. I opened a cabinet and it squeaked open with extreme protest. The only reward I got was a spider skittering away as soon as the light reached it. With a small scream, I threw the cabinet closed again and stood there, pale-faced, wondering if I had the nerve to open another.

However, before I could make another attempt at a cabinet, something out of the corner of my vision caught my eye. A lump of dark fabric laid on the floor just behind the island, obscuring from the view of the door. I paused, slowly moving to shine my light at the figure. It twitched and made a strange, indescribable gurgle. I began to slowly back away.

Before I could make it much further, the fabric seemed to spring to life. A man, a middle-aged one with bright and wild eyes, was revealed to have been hiding it, almost as if he’d been waiting for me. A scream rose in my throat as the man rushed towards me. His hands were outstretched, aiming at my throat. He held onto me with a vice grip, laughing wildly, and I found that my supply of air had been thoroughly cut off.

The man’s face came closer and closer towards me--but he was suddenly stopped. A loud bang erupted in the room and air flooded back into my lungs. Sound, in that moment, moved faster than my vision. Suddenly, the man was on the ground, lying unmoving. I scooted away from him, tears blurring my eyes. I barely noticed a shadow obscured the light from the doorway. My eyes traced the shadow to the door and there stood a boy--taller than, perhaps, anyone I’d met before. Despite this, though, he still looked young. There was a cold, expressionless look on his face, but his charcoal eyes held a certain hesitancy that I could then decipher as nervousness.

So...he’d been the one that saved me that day.

After that, he couldn’t get me to shut up. It was fine to him...he didn’t talk much, you see. Or, rather, at all. I begged for his help and gave him my address, desperate to find some way home. At the time, I didn’t care if this guy could’ve been more dangerous than the last. I just wanted to go home and, as far as I was concerned, if he had wanted to kill me, he would’ve already done it.

He walked me through the woods that night. Despite being near-silent the entire walk home, I’d gathered that he was a student at a prestigious academy close by and that it was his job to catch creepy guys like the one who was in the house that day. When I got home, I gave him a hug and thanked him for all he’d done for me. It was then was the first time I saw his expression dramatically shift--his eyebrows raised in surprise. I’d run inside to grab my phone and give him my number, promising him to stay in contact often. After putting his name in my phone's contact list, he nodded in farewell and began to walk back to his own home. I remember looking at my contacts list and swearing I’d never forget the guy who saved my life. I was determined to be his friend.

I promised myself I would never forget Seskiel Kuran.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you even listening to me?” Len raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowed at me. I jumped from my thoughts and he gasped when the movement almost ruined the polish he’d been putting on my nails. “H-Hey! Don’t jump like that when I’m trying to do your nails! You were the one who insisted I paint them pink, even though I told you red violet would’ve been a better choice since it adds contrast! If you’re going to make me paint your nails a crappy color, at least pay attention when I spill tea to you.” He pouted.

“A-Ah! Sorry, Len! I kinda zoned out...I was thinking about something that happened earlier.” I gave him a ditzy, sheepish smile. “What were you saying, hon?” He let out a tiny ‘hmph’ and began once more.

“I said I’m worried about my...situation with Stefan.” He frowned down at my nails, continuing to paint them carefully and talking over the speaker faintly cranking out our playlist (from Elvis, to Britney Spears, to Avril Lavigne, to some of the classic rock and punk stars. It was nice to listen to “cringe” music without judgement) that flowed from the tiny speakers in the room.

At this moment, I felt tense. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head and frowning at the question.

“Don’t play dumb!” Len frowned scoldingly. “You know I like him. You know Seskiel is being...awfully close with him…” He trailed off, looking at my nails sadly. “I know he’s your best friend, but...I’m scared of losing him, you know? What if he ends up with him? What if he doesn’t even like me-” I stopped him by shaking my head.

“Stop. You’re getting too worked up over this, you know. You can’t change how people feel about you, and you can’t rush something like love…” I narrowed my eyes and he looked up at me like he was about to complain. “No! I’m being serious, now, so listen up, ok?” I was rewarded with only a reluctant nod.

“Stefan is your friend. He cares about you, boyfriend or not. Keep going after him, if you want. I won’t stop you. Seskiel has his own demons that he’ll need to face if he wants to pursue a relationship with Stefan, so you don’t need to rush. Let it come naturally. Besides..so what if he doesn’t like you? If he doesn’t, it wasn’t meant to be and he doesn’t deserve you anyhow. Get yourself a man who can do both.” I emphasized the words of the last sentence by clapping and Len jumped, startled, quickly letting out a line of scolds for almost ruining my nails. I laughed and shook my head, taking his hands to work on his nails, as he’d finished mine.

“I don’t think I can live without him, though…” Len whined, leaning to put his head on my shoulder. I huffed, awkwardly still trying to paint his nails with his head still on my shoulder.

“Hey! Watch it...Remember, I’m tiny, so it’s hard to paint your nails when the rest of you is towering over me like that.” I narrowed my eyes and he seemed to lighten up, laughing and pulling back to grin mischievously.

“Oh? Towering over you?” He purposely sat up taller and I sent him a cold glare. “Might wanna be careful how you word that.” He winked and I rolled my eyes.

“Please...everyone knows you’re a bottom. It’s not my fault everyone else is so freakishly tall.” Len seemed to recoil in mock-horror at the statement.

“ _I’m_ the bottom?! As if-”

“Len.” I deadpanned, looking him straight in the eye. “You’re...how do I say this politely?” I looked at the ceiling for answers before shaking my head and addressing him once more. “To put it bluntly, you’re a pussy. Now, I love you, but you are by no means a ‘dominant’ person unless you count someone messing with your looks or someone sassing you.” Len slumped, narrowing his eyes.

“Your nails are done.” I chimed, sending him a small smile.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He pouted, crossing his arms carefully and turning away. I smiled, tapping his cheek lightly.

“You know you love me.” I sing-songed, before laying back on the carpet to stare at the ceiling. Len looked over, huffed, smiled, and laid down as well, looking up at the ceiling.

“Only the same way as I could love a leech.” He joked, nudging me with his elbow. We laughed and conversation like that flowed easily until our nails were completely dry. I stood up, grinning, and helped the blonde stand before chiming once more.

“I have something to make it up to you if you’re still angry about me calling you a crybaby…” I winked and his face contorted in mock-rage.

“Hey! You never called me a crybaby!”

“Did I not..? Ah, well, I implied it…”

“Maybe I don’t want that surprise, then!” He huffed, crossing his arms and turning away.

“Oh...ok, then. Guess I’ll have to make strawberry cheesecake all on my own…” I pouted, turning to walk towards the kitchen. Once my face was out of sight of Len’s, I grinned. I knew I had him.

“...Did you say...strawberry cheesecake..?”

“Yeah, but if you hate me so much that you won’t forgive me, then, I guess…” I was cut off by being hugged from behind.

“I take it back--yes, I do love you.” My expression lit up and I turned around to hug him.

“Aha! I knew it! Come on, I know it’s your favorite...It’s been rough these last few weeks, so I thought it’d be fun to lighten the mood!” He let go of me and nodded, looking a bit more solemn than before. It had been two weeks since the curfew had begun, and they’d only stopped interviewing students and looking for evidence at the school itself two days ago. The stress had been on everyone--even someone as stoic or Seskiel. I couldn’t complain much, though. The girls who typically tormented me in the mornings had backed off a bit since they didn’t want to get caught by the increased security measures at school, so that was nice. Regardless, though, the weight of the news that no evidence that would bring the killer to light was found was slowly grinding on everyone at school.

It was a nice break, spending time with my friends. We’d agreed to stay in groups of two from then on, to make sure no one got hurt, up until the curfew forced us to go home and stay there until the morning hours. I’d bought the cake materials because I’d been trying to do little things to make sure my friends were happy. A strawberry cheesecake was no skin off my back as long as Len would be a bit happier. Besides--it wasn’t a total loss. If he took half of the cake and I took the other half, I’d have dessert for a few days at least.

We spent the remainder of our time like that, already having finished our homework. While we were putting away extra ingredients, though, a voice rang from the living room.

“Honey, I’m home!” Rin jokingly called.

“Hello, darling! Sorry, I’m just watching the baby.” I stuck my tongue out at Len while Toby followed Rin into the kitchen, grumbling about how Rin shouldn’t fake flirt like that.

“Thanks, Emi, it was so difficult to find a good babysitter.”

“It was no trouble.” I smiled, crossing my arms. “We made a cake!”

“Ooh?” She walked over to the island in the middle of the kitchen to inspect it and grinned in approval. “This looks great!”

“Not that you’d know what great food looks like.” Toby raised an eyebrow. “You can burn water…”

“That was only once!” Rin protested. While I was smiling and adding in my own commentary every now and then, I felt as if I zoned out. The words, by now, were all a blur. We cut the cake in half and I sent Len, Rin, and Toby home with their half. Jokes were exchanged, as well as goodbyes, and suddenly, I was alone again in the earthen home. With no one to force me to keep my smile up, I allowed my shoulders to droop and smile fall. It’d been a long day, no doubt about it, but all the pressure left me not wanting to eat any of the food that I’d prepared. Instead, I took a quick shower and went to my room to turn in for the night early. Just as I was about to go to sleep, though, I heard a bizarre rustling outside.

You’d think I might’ve thought it was just an animal since I lived in the forest right outside of town. I should’ve been used to weird sounds. But this...it somehow felt different. My heart sank into my stomach and I crawled out of bed, rolling onto the floor, and crawled close to the ground to make my way to the window. Slowly, I raised my head to peak out of the one tiny circular window in the room and my eyes flew open. I froze at what I saw.

In the tree right outside my window, I saw a pair of dark eyes staring right back at me. Not the animalish eyes you see from opossums or squirrels, but bright, round, large human eyes that seemed to glare at me until it pierced my soul.

Someone was watching me.

As soon as they noticed me, however, the figure dropped out of the tree and began sprinting through the trees away from my home. My blood fell cold and I moved to quickly put something in front of the window and to lock my door.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much or well that night.


	5. Chapter 5

            Which is scarier--not being able to see or being able to see absolutely everything?  
            This is what I wondered at the edge of the world I knew.  
            Behind me were the crystalline depths of aquamarine horizon and ivory foam cirrus. The only disruption to sight in that world was either the darkness or monochromatic mock marine life obstructing your view. Ahead of me, just yards away, lay the unknown. It was as if somehow, suddenly, someone who’d gotten past the storm above drew a line between the seas, splitting them, and filled one side with the filth of the world above. It’s toxicity attempted to reach me in tendrils, but the salt in the atmosphere killed it before it got too close. Occasionally, my world attempted to assault the anomaly, but the foreign liquid’s abundance held it back.  
            Then there was me--I stood there, near-center of it all, debating my next move. Why was I there? Where would I go? Why go anywhere at all?  
            All these questions turned to none when they received no answer.  
            Instead, my surroundings seemed to decide for me. The world shifted under my feet and I was forced forth through the current and into the brown sludge water that no amount of light could pierce. Immediately, I felt as if I was suffocating. I coughed and coughed, trying to break free, to push my feet through the sand when the ground had vanished entirely, to swim back when the viscosity of the sludge glued me in place, and tried to rid myself of the grime that had consumed me when there was not even a way to see through it, much less leave it.  
            Suffocating.  
            Not drowning.  
            I was suffocating as the mud filled my lungs and clung to my legs. The dirt almost felt as if it were finally settling into place, but burying me in the process. I was being buried alive. For the first time in a dream, though, I felt something different. Arms coiled around my midsection, curling me into an embrace. Human arms. I’d never seen another physical person in my dreams before, and it was a dizzying mixture of terror and comfort. I struggled to turn around and, for the first time since I entered the mud, I could see. A bloated, decrepit corpse-like figure was clinging to me. I screamed, trying to push away from it, trying to get away, flailing, but its vice grip only tightened as the figure--who I couldn’t even distinguish as a man or woman--looked through their long bangs at me as they trailed a hand up my side to my neck. The embrace carried through and this zombie then gripped my neck with both hands, suffocating me even more than I thought was possible. It leaned forth to mutter sweet, nonsensical ramblings to me before the world went black.

 

* * *

 

 

             “Emiri.” The quiet word rang out and I winced. I didn’t sit up or open my eyes--I knew who was there and he knew I was awake. Slowly, I opened my eyes to look at Seskiel. He sat there, staring at me, brows drawn together in worry. He was sitting on my bed--the dawn’s light streamed subtly through the one window in my room. Slowly, I sat up and moved to cling to his arm. We sat like that for what seemed like a long time before I finally spoke.  
            “I had a bad dream.” The words felt like I was confessing a crime I was guilty of--a secret I’d held far too long.  
            “Dream?” He replied, tone barely above a whisper. He never talked in a group; only in private. Even then, his voice was a ghost in contrast to the full presence mine seemed to have, even when mine was reduced to a broken whisper.  
            “I don’t dream often. I know. I’ve been having weird dreams almost every night for the past few weeks.” My shoulders slumped with the release. “Am I going crazy?”  
            “...No. You’re scared.” Well, he wasn’t lying. Everyone was on edge, though. I had no right to make myself seem more important by drawing attention to my own issues.  
            “...” He stared thoughtfully, still looking worried for me. “Being scared isn’t a bad thing.” What a reassuring addendum.  
            “I know it’s not. Just don’t worry about it, ok?” I forced a smile, sitting up straight to stretch. “This will pass...what are you doing here, anyways?”  
            “...You were screaming. Heard you from my house.” My blood ran cold.  
            “What? What do you mean? Really?” He nodded and my heart rose into my throat. That’d, admittedly, never really happened before. I’ve always been a peaceful sleeper, even when I was a baby. It was something that’d even worried my parents when I was younger. So, that being said, why? Why now? The silence in the room was deafening and he quietly pulled me into a hug. I obliged. At this point, I was just glad I didn’t live in the city. I was glad Seskiel was my only real neighbor (even if he didn’t even live too close to my home).  
            “W-Well,” I failed to keep my voice steady but smiled anyway, more for my own sake than his. “It’s nothing now. Let’s make some breakfast! We still have to go to school, you know.”  
            “...It’s four thirty in the morning.” He deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. I winced a little under his questioning gaze.  
            “So what if it’s a bit early? That just means we have more time to make a fabulous breakfast.” I pouted, walking over to my closet and grabbing my uniform for the day (plus a few accessories, of course...I was what the kids called “fashionable”) and skipped off to the bathroom. I heard Seskiel sigh from the other room and get up to go downstairs and, I presume, begin making breakfast. I allowed my facade to drop for a second and let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. I loved Seskiel--he was someone I declared as my “bestest friend in the whole wide known universe” and someone I’d easily live and die for. If there was one thing I hated, though, was worrying my friends. To them, I had always seemed like the most open person. I wore my heart on my sleeve. At least, that’s what they saw. What they didn’t see was that the metaphorical tattoo extended beyond my sleeve; beyond my shoulder and onto my chest. It wasn’t that I was inherently hiding things from them--it was that some things just extended beyond the exterior of always optimistic Emi.  
            It’s ok to have secrets. Secrets are your greatest defense.  
            I stepped out of the bathroom feeling much better than before; admittedly more willing to face the day to come. In fact, I might’ve even said I had a good feeling about that day. I seemed to resolve that I wouldn’t let my friends be affected by the murder of last month--that I would find a way to finally make them happy after so many days of tension. The first thought that came to my mind was treating them to a meal at the diner. While it would weigh a bit on my wallet (ignoring my allowance, which was saved for emergencies only) people always loved food. Plus, I knew how much fun we had had at the diner in the past. Skip in my step and determination revived, I walked downstairs whilst straightening out my skirt.  
            “You take too long.” I heard Seskiel complain quietly, peeking out of the arch that lead into the kitchen. I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled my lower eyelid down mockingly, making a childish face at him as I made my way across the living room and into the kitchen.  
            “And you’re too fast. You never enjoy anything.” I pouted, hitting his arm as lightly as I could in protest.  
            “Well, if I’m too fast, you won’t enjoy breakfast. Guess I’ll go.” He shrugged, faking a hurt look. I looked at the island that served as a table and my eyebrows flew up in surprise. On two plates, were a set of sunny-side up eggs, croissants, and bacon. This angel had also prepared coffee--it was in that moment I knew I had the best friend in the world. I turned to him and hugged him, going on a tiny rant about how I took it back and he was the best in the world. He silently nodded.  
            “Damn straight.”  
            And that was that. We sat together for the rest of the time, eating breakfast, cracking jokes, and telling stories (even if I was the one doing most of the talking). It seemed that time flew and by the time we were ready to leave for our daily commute, I’d forgotten all about my bad dreams and sour thoughts upon first waking up. It was going to be a good day, tragedy be damned. When Len, Rin, Toby, and Stefan finally met up with us, I took a deep breath and decided to tell them my plan when their conversations lulled. At last, I saw my opportunity.  
            “So!” I Began. “I know this month has been rough...I know I can say for myself that I really miss winter break.” There were several mumbles of agreement. “But, I was thinking that we could all come to the diner after clubs today and hang out for a while, dinner on me! It’s been a while since we all got to hang out like that, and that way, we wouldn’t have to worry about the curfew or our buddy system.”  
            “That’s a great idea!” Rin grinned, looking over. Toby huffed at her response, crossing his arms.  
            “I guess it can’t be too much of a waste of my valuable time…” He grumbled and I smiled knowingly. He really was only going for Rin, which everyone in the group seemed to know except for Rin herself. They’d been best friends ever since Toby immigrated here, so I had been betting this was coming for a while.  
            “It’s settled, then!” I clapped my hands together cheerfully, looking up at the group. “Let’s have a good day, then-”  
            “Shuisen!” I jumped a little, hearing a voice calling me. I looked around to see Thana running towards us, looking serious.  
            “Oh, hey, Thana...What’s wrong?”  
            “Nothing! I just...I wanted to apologize again. I still feel terrible--you must’ve been really freaked out.” Ignoring the questioning stares from Seskiel and the others, I smiled sheepishly and waved my hands as if it could wave her off.  
            “Oh, it’s nothing, really! Don’t feel bad...everyone has awkward moments like that, you know.” I smiled and the girl sighed with relief, swooping in to hug me suddenly (almost sweeping me off of my feet, might I add). I froze, wide-eyed. I felt my face heat up a bit as I patted her back awkwardly. She let go, beaming at me with a smile comparable to the sun.  
            “Look...Shuisen, would it be ok if I became friends with you?” I felt my face heat up a bit more. Was it fair for someone to be that cute? Her dark eyes were practically gleaming--it was completely unfair. I nodded, looking down at the ground, feeling my heart speed up a bit.  
            “Of course. I’m always looking to make new friends…” I smiled back at her and she squeaked, hugging me again and giggling. From over Thana’s shoulder, I could see Len wiggling his eyebrows.  
            “Aww, isn’t that sweet--little Emi is making friends…” Len cooed, patting Thana on the shoulder. I saw her face turn a bright red and my heart sank a little. That’s right--I was the weird one here, not her. Shooting the feeling of giddiness down, I straightened myself up and pouted.  
            “Damn straight--because I’m cool like that.” Was my only rebuttal. The conversation continued like this and began to walk to school once more, this time Thana keeping most of the group’s attention. I walked besides Seskiel, occasionally adding in my two cents.  
            When we got to the school, though, I froze. There were police cars and tape surrounding the entrance. The group noticed this and looked forward to see what I saw, freezing in a similar manner.  
While they all began to talk amongst themselves quietly, debating what had happened, I found myself walking forward on autopilot, eyes wide. Time seemed to slow down as I made my way through the small crowd gathered at the entrance until the tape touched my chest. My face went pale when my eyes met hers. I knew her face and name as soon as I saw them, despite a young officer walking towards me and suggesting I look away from the site and asking others to back up. Lying in a pool of her own blood was Hana Fujioka, of the cooking club. I took a shuddering breath, slowly backing away from the scene. While backing away through the crowd, someone pushed me to get by and see the scene. As I landed on the ground, eyes wide and shivering, one thought coursed through my mind:  
  
            Didn’t Thana come from this direction this morning?


	6. Chapter 6

A scream left me as hands gripped my shoulders. I whipped around, eyes wide before glaring at the man behind me.

“Dad!” I whined, rolling my eyes. “That was a cheap shot and you know it.” The man laughed and shook his head, holding his sides and trying to speak through his laughter. He was interrupted, though, by Mom.

“She’s right.” My mother replied from next to me on the couch. “Come on--you’re missing the crime scene.” She pouted, pulling him to sit next to her on the couch. He relented, wiping his eyes and getting the last of his laughter out.

“You jump too easily.” He teased, ignoring the scene on the television. On the screen, a genius coroner examined the scene of a murder. She seemed initially confused by the scene, and thus begun the plot of the episode. “Back in my day, I could’ve handled anybody at any time.”

“Except for me, apparently. Your ‘bad boy’ skills didn’t do you any favor against any of the girls on the swim team.” Mom smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. Dad rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t prepared for you and your friends. The girls I knew at school were all wimps...You and the girls south of my school were tough, though. That’s where the girls in the gang came from.” He nodded, reminiscing.

“Yeah, well, the only thing ‘bad’ you do now is make music.” I stuck my tongue out at him from across the couch and he feigned indignity, gasping in mock-insult. Mom giggled, shaking her head. Her blonde locks bounced as she did so. I felt a sinking feeling in my gut, but I didn’t know why.

I missed her so much. I missed Dad, too.

The night continued on. Eventually, the good guys caught the murderer in the show. Life for the protagonists went on. I had school the next morning and studying to do before I went abroad. I would miss my parents and my cozy home, that’s for sure...but life had bigger things waiting for me.

I didn’t expect that bigger thing to be like what we’d watched on television that night.

 

* * *

  
  


I came back to reality when I felt a hand on my arm, tugging me up. I looked upwards to see Stefan looking down at me worriedly. Len, standing beside him, was trying to talk to me, but it didn’t quite reach my ears.

Hana Fujioka’s dead, empty eyes still bore into my soul. I shook lightly, and slowly sound began to register in my mind once more.

“-m? Em?! What happened? Did you see what it was? After you looked, they blocked the entrance so no one could see-” Len tried asking, shaking my arm gently. He was interrupted by Seskiel gripping his shoulder, sending him a scolding look. Seskiel walked over, his expression softening as he gently patted my shoulder.

“What was that for..?! What am I supposed to ask, huh?” Len sent Seskiel a glare. You could feel the tension hanging heavily in the air. My shaking worsened, and the world seemed to twirl in every which direction, attempting to tug me down with it.

That was enough to start an argument. While it seemed one-sided, Len yelling at a silent Seskiel, Seskiel’s angry stares were all the reply he needed to give. It began to spiral so that not even Stefan could pull the two apart. A nearby officer noticed this and began walking this way, and urgency suddenly took hold of me.

“Hana Fujioka is dead.” I blurted, my heart beating in my ears, still shaking. Len stopped, his eyebrows having shot up in shock. Seskiel looked equally dumbfounded, and quickly walked over to pat my shoulder firmly--I assumed it was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. I looked over to see Rin tearing up. Hana was in the cooking club...a fairly close friend of Rin’s, and a very kind girl who was always polite to my friend group. I had a lot of respect for her. The shaking worsened. At least they didn’t see.

“You...You saw it? You saw Hana?” Rin shakily asked, taking a step forward towards me. Blank brown eyes flashed in my mind again, a violently slashed throat falling just below that. I tried to push the fact Hana was barely in one piece out of my mind--to get rid of the mental image of puddles of blood. I nodded silently.

It was at that moment the headmaster of the school stood in front of the crowd and began to address it.

“Due to the investigations taking place today, classes have been canceled. It is recommended that you go home at once, and stay in places where you know there are many people. If you are in groups, you will find yourself exponentially safer than if not. Now, go home. There is nothing more to see here.” He and several staff members attempted to shepherd the random students and journalists who had just begun arriving at the building away. I grabbed Rin and Seskiel’s hands and began walking in a random direction. Rin sniffled behind me, wiping her eyes and nose with her free hand. Once we were well on our way to the Diner, I pulled Rin into a tight hug. We silently stood there, almost as if we were waiting for the contact to dissolve the problems around us. As if it would bring Hana back. I let go, forcing a smile before my group and I pushed on. It wouldn’t bring Hana back. Nothing would bring Hana back.

“Hey! Hey, wait up!” I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my smile. “Can I tag along with you guys? My friends aren’t here yet, and I don’t want to be left alone back there.” I could hear the sheepish smile in Thana’s voice. I took a deep breath and forced my smile to look at least a little genuine before turning to her.

“Of course...the Headmaster said we’re supposed to stick together. Safety in numbers, right?” After meeting her for the first time, Len had told me about how Thana had always been a bit annoying to him--tagging along and following him around sometimes--and I could see the apprehension on his face. At this point, I didn’t particularly care. Sure, she was acting a bit too chipper about everything, but it was likely she didn’t even know what happened. I was one of the few people in the crowd that actually saw Hana--the only ones to really know what was going on that the moment.

“Definitely! Thanks for understanding, Emiri!” She ran over to lightly hug my arm and I felt something strange--like butterflies in my stomach mixed with a strange sense of dread. M hands shook when I lightly gave her a pat on the shoulder and my smile wavered slightly when I sent it her way.

“You’re welcome. Now, come on. We’re going to the 66 Diner...I work there, so I can get you guys some discounts.” I didn’t mention the discounts would be coming from my paycheck, but I didn’t find the need to mention it. After all--I was the one who offered to treat everyone out. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it, anyway.

The rest of the journey to the Diner was one with a strange feeling of tension. Len and Seskiel were standing close to Stefan, subtly trying to get the other away from him. Thana not-so-subtly walked close to a distracted Len, trying to keep a steady conversation going. Rin walked hand-in-hand with me while Toby used her shoulder as an armrest, scolding her about her grades. I stayed silent, thinking, watching it all on the way.

The lyrics “there’s comfort in the bottom of a swimming pool” came to mind. I was silent the rest of the walk, and no one seemed to mind. I was glad.

My shoulders deflated with relief when I saw the diner. I excused myself to run ahead and get changed into my uniform. Nakamura was the first one to call me out when I walked in.

“Child! What are you doing here? It’s not your shift.” He scolded, raising an eyebrow as I walked through the kitchen to the employee break room and changing area.

“School’s been canceled today because police are conducting an investigation...You were right about the murders a while back. One happened on campus...a girl my friends and I knew named Hana Fujioka.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it cracked a bit. I cleared my throat, trying to choke the feeling. “She was in the cooking club.” I stepped out of the employee room into the kitchen, dusting off the pink poodle skirt and blue-and-white striped blouse. Nakamura took a second from his cooking to walk over, looking serious.

“At least it wasn’t you, kid.” He took off his glove and patted my head, ruffling my hair. I took a shaky nod, not realizing how long I had been holding back tears.

“...I saw the body.” I murmured quietly. Wordlessly, he pulled me into a hug. I sniffled, trying to hold back sobs. Finally, he let me go.

“...I see. Come on, let’s get to work.” The man knew me well enough by now--three years of working in his diner, the man was like a close friend of mine by now. Not quite like a father figure--maybe more like the street-savvy uncle with questionable ideas who you appreciate from a distance. Regardless of this, I nodded firmly, wiped my eyes, and held my chin up. I marched out of the kitchen with a smile on my face and a notepad at my side, ready to seize the rest of the day.

Between sitting people at booths and tables and attending to customers--especially my group of friends, who’d finally caught up and were demanding the majority of my attention--time flew by. One minute I was scolding Len to stop yelling at Rin for something or other and disturbing customers, the next I was cleaning up a spilled milkshake.

Eventually, though, my group ordered dessert. It seemed like they wanted to leave soon, and I understood. It had been a long day, and no one wanted to sit in a diner all day when you didn’t know whether or not there would be school the next day.

I began walking over with their orders, milkshakes and sundaes and the like, with a smile. At least, when they went home, I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping them happy. Not like I was doing a good job anyway. Stefan had been sandwiched between Len and Seskiel in their booth, Len on the outside, and Thana had been pouting almost the entire time. Overall, between the silent war between the two dorks and the tension, I was just about done with everyone. No one needed to be around that behavior--especially when it had already been a long enough day.

All of the sudden, my world tilted. In an instant, I found myself on the floor, surrounded by fallen pie, ice cream, and glass. The hand, which I had extended to catch myself, had landed on a broken glass and was then bleeding. I sat there, in shock. Never, in my three years of working, had I fallen and spilled an order like that. I was a careful person--I never spilled, no matter how clumsy I felt any given day. I looked and saw Thana’s foot peeking out of the booth. When I looked up at her, she looked mortified and mouthed “sorry.”

Len shot up immediately, along with Toby, helping pick up larger pieces of glass and scooping up the larger chunks of food with napkins. Slowly, I began to move again, picking large pieces of glass and ceramic from the floor and my hands.

“Are you ok?” Len sent me a look. Without even waiting for an answer, he urged Stefan and Seskiel to get up as well. Seskiel still sat, though, face pale and looking at my hands. I quietly shook my head at him. A silent message.  _ Don’t. _

“Hey, man, come on! She’s your best friend--help a girl out!” Len glared at him, putting the soiled napkins on the table.

“H-hey. I’m fine. I’ll just...be right back.” I rushed off, wincing when Len began shouting again. While I didn’t hear Seskiel speaking, I could practically feel his glares across the room. I shivered and went into the kitchen. Nakamura instantly rushed over.

“Stay right in here, kiddo. Clean yourself up.” I shakily nodded, staring at the blood blankly. I fetched the first aid kit from the back and went to the sink, working out stains from my skirt and top and eventually bandaging my hands. Watching the blood go down the drain, I had to refrain from thinking of the similarly colored puddles I saw this morning. I could hear Nakamura’s quiet but threatening voice in the restaurant section, though he came back in soon.

“I told your friends to go home. They paid for their meals and I sent them off. I held that one girl back--I saw her trip you.” He looked furious, shaking his head. “It wasn’t an accident, either--I could see her smile when she did that. Please don’t tell me she’s your friend?” I shivered and shook my head. “Good. Stay away from her, Emiri.” At the use of my actual name, I nodded. Nakamura was serious this time if he was using my first name.

“...Your bud, Seskiel...He and that blonde one, Len, right? They were almost at each others’ throats...Had to physically walk them out and pay at the door.” I felt shame and guilt in my gut--that was so unlike them...why were they pulling this type of stuff all of the sudden?

“Sorry, sir. This...this just doesn’t-”

“I know. You’ve had them in here before, and they’ve been good customers. It looks like time hasn’t treated you all well, relationship-wise.” I slowly nodded. Honestly, what was going on? “...You’re out of it right now. Akari is going to be coming in soon for her shift...you should go home and get some rest, ok, kiddo? I’ll put your uniform in the wash over the weekend, so you won’t have to worry about it. Go on, now…” He patted my shoulder, nudging me towards the break room. Once I was in there, I numbly changed back into my school uniform and grabbed my bag. I could only vaguely recognize Nakamura waving at me before I left, and the walk back home was all a blur. It didn’t occur to me to look at my phone until I entered my home and locked the door behind me. Setting my bag down on the couch, I plopped down next to it, rubbing my bandages and getting my phone out. When I unlocked it, my face paled. I had received a multitude of concerned texts: Toby, scolding me about being an idiot and getting myself hurt; Rin, asking if I was ok and if I was in trouble with my boss; a string of texts from Len, ranting and apologizing; Stefan asking for advice and worrying over my hands; a single “sorry” from Seskiel. I found myself lucky that Thana hadn’t managed to swipe my phone number yet, but that relief ended when I saw I had a text from an unknown number. Tears clouded my vision and I threw my phone onto the carpet, yelling in frustration and feeling my facade slowly crumble away. Curling into a ball and sobbing, I couldn’t erase the infuriating message away from my mind.

_             "Watch your back. If you aren’t careful, you’ll be next. _   Stupid fucking cliché son of a bitch.


	7. Chapter 7

            While my surroundings were foreign, the cold rush of ocean was a relief. My eyelids fluttered open to see a grandiose parlor, much bigger than myself. I had been floating near the top and I felt myself slowly drift to the floor, my feet making contact with the pristine, frigid marble floors. Slowly, I trekked away from the parlor and through the halls. Past a rotunda, through a colonnade, and I found myself dancing lightly to a nonexistent melody through a cloister. Finally, exiting the structure through the portico, I marvelled at the street surrounding me.

            I pushed myself forward, no particular destination in mind. However--when one specific structure came in mind, I knew there was no stopping me--I pushed forth.

            Stepping into the ballroom of another intricate mansion, I felt all tension and anxiety that was once in me melt away. Across the hall, a cello stood at the ready like a faithful partner, waiting for someone to dance. Normally, in dreams, I was no one. I could never remember who I was, unless the dream was a memory. This time, though, it was different. I knew exactly who I was--and the cello was a warm reminder of cello and piano lessons throughout elementary and orchestra classes throughout middle school in America.

            Before I knew it, I was across the hall and sat upon the stool the cello rested against, bow in my hand. Fingers resting in their correct positions, I began to play the first song that came to mind--one of the few I had bothered to memorize because I’d loved playing it so much. Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1: Prelude came to mind instantaneously. The melody cut through the currents brilliantly, filling the ballroom hall with the intricate refrain.

            Hours could’ve passed and I wouldn’t have known. Between pieces of lighter furniture floating delicately through the room and the vigorous plucking of the strings, I could’ve stayed there blissfully unaware for centuries with no qualms. Prelude turned to Greensleeves, which turned to Tchaikovsky’s 6th, which eventually somehow led to a goofily melodic version of All Star. All the songs I’d bothered to memorize--the strings melding under my fingertips with the waves and the ditty in the atmosphere soaring to the ceiling. The floating items scattered around seemed to sway to the music, and ghostly invisible figures swirled through the rushes in a ritualistic vortex of a waltz.

            I joined them when the cello began to play itself--to play a melody I didn’t know.

            In the end, we all danced until the ocean overcame us and we faded into foam.

 

* * *

 

            I found it ironic how possibly the worst day in weeks left me feeling completely rested and gave me a good dream. I woke up on the couch in my uniform, having not bothered to change from my clothes. Light drifted in daintily through the stained glass bay window behind the couch. Still in a half-sleep daze, I gently lifted my hand in the air, waving it as if to disturb the rays of light and drench my hand in color. Memories of being able to do this when I was younger and visiting the home in the summers filled my head. I found myself missing my mom again.

            Sitting up, I sighed with relief when I noticed I had at least managed to calm myself down enough to plug my phone in before passing out in a fit of emotional exhaustion. I rubbed my eyes, ignoring the 53 collectively missed texts and calls, opting to instead dial a number that had not left me a message. I didn’t even look at the number pad, nor did I look at the number before I realized who I was dialing.

            “Emi, dear,” The woman on the other line picked up immediately. “It’s five in the morning for you...Surely, I thought you’d be sleeping in by now. I know at your age, I was-”

            “And it’s three in the afternoon for you.” There was a smile in my voice--I was just glad she wasn’t able to see it was a tired one. “Don’t mind me. I just wanted to call you. It’s been a long few weeks, Mama.”

            “The...incidents.” I could practically hear her nodding pensively. “Sorry, honey...you know, we could always come over and stay with you...like a little vacation! Or, you could come over here, for a break.”

            “You know I can’t just take a break from school and you’ve got your work...I just needed to talk to you or Dad again...maybe both.” I could hear her giggle on the other line, about to comment, but I stopped her. “One of my classmates was killed yesterday. A girl in the cooking club.” The line went silent. “...I got there too early, so I accidentally saw the body.” I was glad my voice didn’t shake this time--though, in exchange, I sounded hollow.

            I took Mom’s silence as a sign to continue. I couldn’t stand the silent void, anyhow.

            “Just a few weeks ago, the janitor died, too. They were both stabbed a lot...it looks similar, though I heard yesterday at the restaurant they’re saying it looks like a scorned rival or something stupid like that. People are saying they think they’re going to start calling them serial killings instead of just murders.” I finally stopped, gulping. There was silence for a few beats.

            “Jesus...what kind of police do they have over there, not covering up the scene?” Mom had dropped her pleasant tone, instead taking an outraged one.

            “It was kind of difficult, considering it was right in front of the school gates.” I heard her swear over the line, muttering under her breath to try and find comforting words. Though, what exactly was there to say? I wouldn’t know what to do, had the situations been reversed.

            “I just wanted to call and say I missed you. I love you, Mama.” I heard her clear her throat on the other line.

            “I love you too, hon...Just wait here, ok? I’m getting your dad.” I didn’t need to tell her that I wasn’t planning on going anywhere and it felt a bit weird asking where I would go over the phone, so I sat in silence and listened to her walking to some undisclosed location. Numbly, I noted that it was nice to speak English again, if only to enjoy the nostalgia and familiarity of it.

            “Are you hurt?” Apparently, I had zoned out too long, because Mom was already with Dad. “Do I need to come over there? I’ll fight a son of a-”

            “Dad, Dad...no. It’s fine. I’m ok, just a bit shaken...it’s been a long few weeks and I just wanted to give you guys an update on everything here in Japan.” I heard him gulp, shakily nodding. There were times where I thought it was weird just how much I’d picked up from him habit-wise. I knew his worry, though. Back when he was younger, he used to be in a fairly large group of delinquents, pompadour and all. While he, himself, had never participated in much violent activity, preferring to venture alongside the more vigilante side of the gang, he knew what some of the more violent, more dangerous gang members did. He also knew about the “stalking crisis” that had been on the rise for a while, now. It was one of the reasons he made sure to send an employee on “business” in Japan to check on me every now and then.

            “Ok. Just remember what I told you before you first went there, ok? Know the law, don’t break the law, but be smarter than the law.” He recited, knowing the words by heart. I nodded, knowing he couldn’t see me.

            “I know, dad. I know. I love you-” I heard the doorbell ring and froze. “I got to go, ok? I know what to do.”

            “Ok. Love you too, sweetheart. Behave yourself!”

            “No promises.” With that, I hung up the phone, though not before I could hear Mom beginning to scold him for such a blunt, brief message. They were probably going to text me more often from then on.

            Keeping my phone open and fingers ready to type “110” if need be. Slowly, with my free hand, I opened the door. Stefan stood there, looking started at my hesitant and anxious expression. He opened his mouth and shut it again, now looking concerned.

            “Are you ok? You haven’t answered anyone’s texts.” I nodded, slowly lowering my phone.

            “H-hey. Sorry. Guess I’m just...on edge. Sorry--I only just woke up. I’ve only called my parents today...it’s really early, you know?” I gave him a shaky smile and he raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Sure. Rin’s going to be here in…’a few minutes.’” He lifted his hands for air quotes and I laughed lightly. “Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t show up for another hour. Len is busy, so he can’t come.” He poked his head into the doorway. “I thought Seskiel would be here by now.” I shook my head.

            “I’ll leave a message for him next time I go in to work as his secretary.” I deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

            “...You’re unusually hostile today.” His Russian accent became more clear as he shifted uncomfortably. “Is it because of yesterday?”

            “Gee, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the fact that two of my best friends almost threw down in my place of work. Maybe it’s because the girl tagging along intentionally tripped me. Maybe it’s because I’m just trying my best to make everyone happy and no one will take a hint and at least try and make things better. Maybe, it’s because you’re the only one that doesn’t seem to realize that two very possessive people have a crush on you...or maybe, it’s because you realize it, but refuse to do anything to diffuse the situation. Or, y’know, maybe it’s because of the ‘you’re next’ text I got from an anonymous number that I’m pretty sure if I block, they’ll just get a new phone to call me.” Slowly, I let the pleasant facade I usually keep drop. Stefan looked taken aback, staring at me as if I had just killed his dog or something.

            “...Just...just come inside.” I beckoned him in and he followed my instructions, taking his shoes off at the door and wandering into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I need to get a shower.” With that, I left him to diffuse while I cleaned myself up and changed out of my uniform, getting ready to put it in the wash. Wandering downstairs while putting a clip in my hair to hold it up while it dries, I stopped at the bottom of the stairs at the smell of food.

            “What is it with you people and making food in my house without me asking?” I poked my head into the kitchen, still frowning. Stefan shrugged, transferring a food I was unfamiliar with off of the pan and onto a plate. “What is this?” I sat down, regardless, on one of the island bar stools.

            “Oladi. It’s a Ukrainian dish, but still one of my favorites..” He began serving the food, setting a bowl of sliced strawberries on the table. He served his own food and began eating.

            “...I still don’t understand what is with you people and making my breakfast.” I raised an eyebrow, picking at my food with my fork. It honestly looked pretty good, but with my sour mood, I didn’t particularly feel like eating…

            Or waking up and being a human that day, but that was fine. The oceanic orchestra seemed nice right now.

            “You said you just woke up...I haven’t had breakfast, and I thought you hadn’t either.” His airy expression turned cold and scolding. “You should take better care of yourself. You live alone-”

            “Pot...kettle.” I narrowed my eyes. Normally, I found that my role as peacekeeper was a fairly important one in terms of “friend group integrity…” but today, I was not having it. I was done--it was early, someone might have been stalking me, and just about everyone I knew seemed like they were being overdramatic. Even Stefan was now talking the same way someone would tread over eggshells. It was frustrating to no end.

            “At least I take care of myself. What is with you today? Is it about that text?” He began to reach for my phone. “Let me see.” I didn’t stop him and watched as his eyebrows flew up in surprise.

            “You have 23 unread voicemails. One of them from your mom. What have you been doing?” I groaned, pushing the plate away to bury my head in my arms.

            “Can’t a girl ask for a tiny bit of social isolation for a day to sort out her own emotions?” I countered, sending him a pointed look. He shook his head, pulling up the texting app to look at the offending message. Still shaking his head, he hit the call button. I sat up, eyes wide.

            “What are you doing?” I quietly hissed. He shrugged, putting the phone on speaker. The dial tone filled the room and I felt my heart race in my chest. The taller boy hushed me, staring at the phone with a frightening intensity only Stefan could muster. I jumped as the phone picked up.

            “You should’ve listened to me. You’re going to be in trouble if you’re not careful, Emiri.” The clearly disguised voice answered immediately. I glared at my phone. I was going to answer, but Stefan beat me to the punch.

            “You are acting strange and frightening my friend. Please kindly fuck off.” Stefan spoke bluntly. The person on the other line was clearly startled and began sputtering, asking who was on the line. The stranger didn’t even have the chance to make another threat before Stefan hung up on him, crossing his arms angrily and blocking the number on my phone.

            “...Thanks.” I nodded, holding back giggles. The entire exchange was fairly ridiculous in and of itself. Stefan nodded, still looking firm. We finished the rest of our oladi in silence. I got up and put the leftovers in the fridge and began to work on the dishes, Stefan quickly following behind to assist me, despite my protests and declarations of being a host.

            As we were putting away the dried dishes, we heard the doorbell ring. I walked over, opening the door, only to be tackled to the floor a moment later.

            “You didn’t call me?!” Rin cried, offended and clearly upset. “Why haven’t you called anyone?! I thought you were dead!” She yelled out dramatically, holding onto my torso with a vice grip.

            “I only just woke up a while ago! I kinda passed out on the couch after yesterda-”

            “What?! You go sit down right now--Stefan is here, right? Just sit, we’re going to have a movie day and you’re going to relax and you’re going to like it!” She huffed scoldingly, pulling me onto my feet and towards the couch, pushing my shoulders down gently so I was sat in front of the TV, looking dumbfounded.

            “She’s right, you know.” Stefan nodded in agreement from the corner of the room. I rolled my eyes as he went back into the kitchen. “I’ll get the popcorn.”

            “Again with the food--am I the food bank for you people or something, Mom and Dad?” I asked sarcastically, sitting tensely with my back ramrod straight. Rin plopped down next to me, taking the opportunity to play with my hair while I wasn’t relaxing against the couch.

            “Hey, even mom friends need breaks. Someone needs to mom you too, you know.” Rin frowned, messing with the braid from behind me to the point where I wasn’t even sure what she was doing anymore. I slumped forward, resting my head on my hand and propping it up with my elbow.

            “I already called my mom this morning. She freaked out about what happened at school.” The blonde behind me stopped messing with my hair for a second before continuing with less enthusiasm than before.

            “I forget you have a mom sometimes.” She admitted, curling a strand of hair around her finger. “You don’t live with anyone and you spend so much time alone or with us, it’s easy to forget. Then, when you decide not to talk to any of us, it gets kind of scary. You’re always talking about how worried you are about us--do you realize how worried you make us sometimes?” The tone she used wasn’t scolding, but was that of a sad, scared friend. She finished toying with my hair, patting my shoulder and beckoning me to relax. I felt my shoulders deflate and a curled into a ball, turning to face her.

            “Sorry.” Was all I could muster. Stefan silently shook the bag of now-popped popcorn behind us quietly, not quite finding words either. He sat on my other side, handing me the bag. I cradled it close, enjoying the warmth it provided. I made a noise of approval and deflated even more.

            “You’re welcome.” He said quietly, picking up the remote without even bothering to ask for permission. I didn’t mind, and neither did Rin. While Stefan picked a movie, something about a girl getting lost in the spirit realm and making friends with a weird dragon boy, I think, Rin would take breaks from looking at the movie as if it were the most precious thing in the world and looking through my unread texts with me. She snorted at Len’s texts, rolling her eyes. Stefan looked a bit embarrassed at his own texts, urging me to read through them quickly since it didn’t matter because he was already there. Rin pulled a similar maneuver, but seemed more nonchalant about it. We had a laugh over Toby’s texts (“His god complex is showing.” Rin snickered). When we finally came to Seskiel’s, I went a bit quiet.

            “Maybe he was just really tired,” Rin suggested. “It was a long day.” I nodded half-heartedly. I typed back a quick “It’s ok. Try and actually get some sleep this weekend” before looking back at the screen. I already knew why he wasn’t keen to be here so early--under any other circumstances he would. I rubbed at the bandages on my hands that I changed after my shower. 

            Seskiel didn’t like seeing people bleed or injured--I understood, and I wasn’t going to force him to come see me. He was an independent person, after all. 

            We continued on like that, enjoying a quiet, rare moment when it was just the three of us and not all five. Soon after the movie was over, though, I was in a much better mood and waved the two off, encouraging them to spend time outside and enjoy the day. The lie that I had worked late came so easily, they believed it and quickly left so that I could “get more rest.” It was relieving that they believed me. Not long after they left, though, my doorbell rang once more. When I opened the door, I was shocked to see familiar false blue eyes.

            “...Himari Rio?” I took an instinctive step away from the taller girl, looking at her with distrust. She looked at her feet, shuffling awkwardly. Her face was a strange hue--I thought she was sick and quickly brushed it off. Defensiveness called for more importance right now.

            “Uh...hey. Shuisen. I heard you got hurt and uh...saw Fujioka.” I looked her dead in the eyes. I was having approximately none of her bullshit today. Whatever cruel joke she was setting up this time, it was already taken too far.

            “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I mean...I didn’t know her well, and I know you and your friends did, so I thought you guys might need...a bit more cheering up.” I looked at her, still untrusting.

            “...If I invite you into my home, am I supposed to expect some sort of prank being played on me? Who put you up to this?”

            “...Len did. Sorry.” She still looked immensely uncomfortable. “He wants us to be friends. I don’t think he knows about…” She made an awkward gesture to the space between us. “...This. He said you needed more comforting than he did after yesterday.” She stood there, then, quiet and waiting for a response. She almost looked like a normal human being instead of one that was determined to make my life miserable at school. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and reminding myself about what my mom told me about karma when I was younger. While Himari never bothered to follow the golden rule, that didn’t mean I shouldn’t either. I stepped aside, motioning her in. As I did so, I saw a shock of blonde hair peeking from one of the bushes. When I was sure Himari was distracted by looking at my house, I discreetly flipped Len off. He squawked indignantly from the bushes, abruptly standing up to walk over to the door before I slammed it in his face. He could be petty all he wanted. He wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of seeing it today.

            I turned to see Himari looking around the room in fascination, tracing a design I had adamantly wanted to paint onto the wall upon moving (along with several other small adjustments that I saved up to pay with my own money...I loved Eastern architecture, sure, but bay windows were another favorite of mine that was sadly strictly Western in design) into the home. I shuffled, a strange feeling rising in my chest.

            “If you’re going to make fun of it, do it now so I don’t have to deal with it for the rest of the time.” I grumbled, walking around her and avoiding her bright blue eyes. She looked over at me as if she were embarrassed to even be in my home.

            “I won’t. I think it’s a cute home. It just looks weird on the outside.” I paused, sending her a curious look. Where was all this kindness when I needed it in the hallways before class? I shook my head, offering her tea and feeling relief when she accepted the gesture. She sat on the couch facing the stained glass bay window, helping me set down the tea set I’d originally found stashed in an antique cupboard somewhere in the house upon moving. It had, admittedly, been a while since I’d used it. Serving Himari and then myself, I began to address her.

            “So...Rio-”

            “Please, call me Himari.” I froze, raising an eyebrow at her. She looked like she regretted saying it as soon as she did. “Because of Len. He wants us to look like friends...the sooner you get used to saying Himari, the sooner we can make it look more convincing. Don’t worry--this changes nothing.” She grumbled, taking a sip of her tea to hide her eyes from mine. Clearing my throat, I tried again.

            “Right... _ Himari _ . Sorry. Forgot you were someone who was dedicated to terrorizing me for a second.” I set down my cup and she looked like she wanted to protest, but I held up a hand to stop her. “I get it. You hate me and I’m weird. That’s fine. I don’t care. How long do you think is long enough to convince Len that we’re playing nice?” I sat there, hand still raised, waiting for a response. To my surprise, though, she continued to stare at my bandaged hands.

            “What happened..?” She trailed off, taking my hand with a grasp much gentler than what I had originally expected. My face heated up subtly at the contact and I avoided her eyes.

            “A girl tripped me at work and some glasses broke. I put my hands out to brace myself, and...yeah. I’m fine, though. I probably should’ve gotten stitches, but I think it will be fine if I don’t. I was probably overreacting when I thought that.” She made a hum of acknowledgment, only partially paying attention with a disapproving, worried frown. She began to rub circles into my knuckles, though it didn’t seem like she realized she was. I sat there in shock, quickly shutting my emotions down to try and fight the blush that was working its way to my face. Regardless as to who it was doing it, I found the gesture oddly comforting. I leaned back onto the couch, facing her.

            “...You’re being oddly kind to me for someone who’s just pretending.” That seemed to snap her out of it and her sudden glare was so drastic, I felt as if I had gotten whiplash from the sudden emotional u-turn. I let out a tiny hiss of pain when she squeezed my hand too tight and, reflexively, I felt my free hand fly up to cradle the one she was gripping. My knuckles cracked under the pressure before she finally let go, standing up, and I saw red beginning to peek through the bandages. My wounds had reopened. I almost didn’t catch the brief look of shock and regret in her eyes before the coldness in them solidified once more.

            “Just practicing.” She practically spat, taking a sudden turn and stomping out of my house and slamming the door behind her. I heard Len yelp outside and I assume he turned to follow her to ask her what that was about, because he didn’t come inside afterward. Honestly, I didn’t care anyway. Standing, I went to go clean the tea set and put it away, ignoring the stinging tears in my eyes. Himari had never been one of the ones that physically hurt me in the past and it hit me--that was the first and time she had deliberately harmed me. I choked down the bitter sting that that revelation brought to my eyes. It was ridiculous--it hurt an abnormal amount, coming from her.

            The rest of the day I tended to my hands, took stock of my food, and generally cleaned to forget about the day.

            When it was time to go to sleep, I relished the opportunity to rest again. Plugging in my phone and changing into pajamas, I crashed onto my bed and silently begged for sleep to come despite it only being eight in the evening.

            Before I finally slept, I couldn’t ignore the faint creaking of the floorboards in my house, followed by other soft, indistinguishable noises coming from downstairs. I got up to lock my bedroom door and push a chair against the knob to block it before deciding it was just an old house that made weird noises and, several hours later, finally being able to sleep through the anxiety that followed.


	8. Chapter 8

            The most disturbing thing wasn’t being surrounded by water--no, I’d grown long used to that now, dwelling at the bottom of the sea--but the fact that I wasn’t in the sea at all. Rain pelted me as I stood on a cobbled path and my hands quickly flew up to protect my head and face. I let out some wounded cries, finding that not being in the sea left me feeling paralyzed and weak. Keeping my hands around my eyes in a sort of shield, I finally took the time to take in my surroundings.

            The hill I stood on would’ve been beautiful, had it not have been for the storm. Lush greenery framed and arched over the pathways with such deliberate grace that it almost looked more like a botanical garden rather than an actual hill. The slick, eroding cobbled path led to a lighthouse at the very top of the hill, sitting on a cliff. It’s beam spun around and around in endless loops, forever confused as to where it was supposed to go. The waves surrounding the hill were violent.

            Large waves thrashed and ravaged the land blocking it from proceeding any further. The currents rose so high, that occasionally a wave would crash onto the top of the hill, threatening to knock the lighthouse over. Surprisingly, though, the tower stood firm in all of its decrepit glory.

            It was when I observed the tower that I noticed why the storm was worse than it was when I fell.

            An impossibly large funnel slowly slid forward across the water, decimating everything in its path to throw it into the sky. The hurricane swirled closer and closer with each passing moment and while it seemed like it would be a while until the storm was directly upon me, the impulse to run shook me to the core and left me scrambling towards the lighthouse. On the way, I slipped and banged my chin on the slick stone below, but I didn’t give myself the luxury to wait and care for the newly formed bruise--whether or not the rocks had left a cut, I didn’t care. The solace of the lighthouse was all that seemed to matter.

            I finally made it inside and, upon realizing what fate was coming, I let out a loud curse and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.

            It was safer in the sea--I knew that. I had always known that. I knew that when I fell, and I still did. But there was no safe way to get into the water at an appropriate distance from the hurricane at this rate, especially in this rain and especially due to the fact I had already slipped and fallen on the rocks when I only had to run a short distance. Jumping from the cliff might’ve meant getting injured from the rocks on the way down, or maybe not even making it far enough from the hurricane in the water.

            I felt like I was cornered. The water with which I was so familiar was too far from my grasp to be safe, and it was likely only moments until the hell outside tore my temporary sanctuary from the ground. At this revelation, though, rage rose in me. I stood, rageful confidence inflating my being. I stepped towards the stairs that lead up and up, through the tower and towards the confused light above.

            If I was fated with facing the onslaught of the storm anyway, why not face it head on? Death was imminent either way.

            I had to kick open the hatch to the bay that had almost rusted entirely shut. While the tower was strong, it hadn’t been visited in a long time. I almost wondered how the light had been maintained if the hatch was so hard to open, but there were more pressing matters. Like the storm having grown quite closer than it had been before--and was it me, or was the light spinning faster than before? I realized venturing to the top had been a mistake quickly. The beam atop the tower spun so fast that the world seemed to be illuminated purely by strobe light, and the clouds obscuring the sun’s rays didn’t help much.

            The real panic kicked in when I felt my feet leave the ground. The air swirled too heavily and too quickly for my mind to immediately register what was happening, but before I knew it, I was being sucked into the vortex. I screamed, attempting to reach for the lighthouse, but the rain coating it made it so that the surface was not one I could grasp onto. Just as the fear that I would be permanently swept into the storm hit me, however, I found that I was no longer near the eye of it. No, I’d been flung away by the hurricane and was then hurtling towards the surface of the rough sea. Before I could scream, I hit the surface and the world went black.

 

* * *

 

            I sat up straight in my bed, sweat beads rolling down my face. Looking around, I saw that nothing was wrong. If the light from the window was anything to go by, dawn was breaking. I reached up to hold a hand to my forehead but stopped when I saw it shaking oddly. I held my palm out, face down, horizontally and tried to will it to hold still. It still, however, kept trembling. I groaned, brushing said hand through my hair in frustration and let myself fall back onto the bed to stare deadpan at the ceiling. The familiar stains and cracks in the paint were, at the very least, a comforting sight. I rolled my head to the side to stare at the clock, counting the seconds as they passed. After several minutes of this, I stood up and got ready for the day. I found that sitting around would be pointless, so I thought it would probably a good idea to go to work for the day. As I approached the door, though, memory of the night before’s dream hit me. My hand hovered over the knob, but I found myself backtracking and going up the stairs to my room. Opening my closet, I pulled out a large case and before I knew it, my cello was sat up in front of me and my old practice book was sitting on my bed. The quiet, flowing melody of the rehearsal pieces in the workbook put me at ease and the tension flowed out of my shoulders.

            The sun was completely visible through my window by the time I stopped. The room with robin egg blue walls was drenched in sunrise light, making the room an odd mix of complementary colors.

            However, my blood stopped cold as a movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention to the window. After another song, the cello was soon put away, along with the workbook, and I set out for work for real this time.

            I wasn’t unaware of the eyes that followed my movements through that window--eyes that followed my hand movements almost adoringly. I would’ve thought it was endearing if it weren’t so creepy. The tension in my shoulders was back with a vengeance and the entire way to the train, I held my keys between my fingers, trying to think back to the Wolverine movies I watched with Dad. Once at the station, I relaxed. Normally, I’d enjoy the walk, but after the past few nights and all the weird things...crowds felt safer. At least in a crowd, there were witnesses. Besides--standing the whole ride versus walking the entire way...it didn’t seem like there was much of a difference anyway. I held onto the rail carefully, waiting for my stop.

            I ignored the feeling of eyes on my back as I left the train and walked the rest of the distance to the diner. Nakamura was happy to see me again--my favorite coworker and ex-mentor, Akari, bombarded me with several questions while Mai covered her post so that Akari could follow me through the back-of-the-house to the break room which doubled as a dressing room. We caught up, exchanging questions and details over what had been happening for the past few days and, at least for a moment, it almost felt like things were back to normal. After Akari heard about the murder, the woman wrapped her arms around me in a comforting hug, cursing in my stead about what had happened, expressing outrage. I laughed, shaking it off, but she persisted, trying to explain how outrageous this was.

            It took a moment to get her to stop ranting, but I began to explain what happened last night, as well. I hadn’t told anyone else yet because I was scared and thought it might’ve been my imagination, but my anxiety had only gotten worse since that first night. When I was done, Akari didn’t look shocked. Instead, she looked furious. She spent the next five minutes doing her best not to scream during her rant as I struggled to put my hair into a decent updo for the “fifties image” we usually went for. Akari ended up getting tired of watching me fumble and stomped over, angrily beginning to do my hair.

            “I see enough people like that on campus and hear enough about perverts, I don’t want to see my little girl getting harassed, either--and in her own home! What is the world coming to, Emi?!” She cried out, gently finishing the updo despite her enraged energy. She twirled me around to face her, the woman in her mid-twenties looking worried for me. “You need to promise me you’ll take care, ok? I know pepper spray and mace are really hard to buy these days, but...at least take some self-defense classes or something. That’s what a lot of girls are doing these days to avoid perverts. No one will blame you. Besides, if you do manage to get a guy arrested, then you have the knowledge that you stopped someone else from getting hurt. Now’s not the time to mess around with this type of stuff--not when your school’s just turned into a crappy b-rated horror movie. Don’t let this be like Scream, Emi! It was a bad movie and everyone knows it!” She pleaded and I couldn’t help but giggle. Akari always knew how to brighten my day, no matter what. I found that despite her dedication to the “playfully angry” role, she was just one of those people that wanted to make others safe and happy.

            And people tell  _ me _ that I’m a “mom friend.”

            We left the break room to get back to work, joining Mai on the floor to wait the tables. Lunch was coming up soon, so we were going to be busy soon. Before the rush came, I snuck over to the jukebox and put in a song, mischievous smile on my face. I heard Mai groan from across the diner.

            “You and your Bill Haley and His Comets...You turn that off right now, Shuisen!” The middle-aged woman turned to give me a scathing look and I giggled, shaking my head and sashaying playfully through the room to the song.

            “You’re just not ready to rock, rock, rock around the clock, Mai.” I cooed as I walked past to get drinks for customers who’d been seated before I put the song into the jukebox. After I served their drinks, I heard the bell above the door ring and shook my head. I began walking over before seeing who was there.

            “Welcome to the 66 Diner! How can I help you folks today-” I looked up to see how many people were in the group before pausing. Standing in the doorway was a disgusted looking Himari, an overly-friendly Thana, and a nervous-looking boy who looked suspiciously American. I forced a smile and grabbed three menus.

            “Just you three today?”

            “Yeah. That too hard for you to handle?” I chose to ignore the pointed comment from Himari but forced myself to hold back a smirk when the shy boy in the back of their caravan lightly hit her arm.

            “Don’t be so rude, Mari...she’s just doing her job.” The girl in question rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, purposefully avoiding my gaze. I smiled a bit wider and mouthed a quick “thank you” to the boy. He nodded, his face heating up a bit.

            “Right this way, please.” I hurriedly seated them at a four-top, setting up the table as quickly as I could. “So, what can I get you guys to drink to start off today?” I whipped my notepad and pen out, ready. 

            “Chocolate milkshake, extra whip cream.” Himari answered, not missing a beat, pointedly looking at her menu rather than me.

            “Can I have melon soda, please?” Thana asked, grinning widely.

            “I’ll just have water unless you have a recommendation.” The boy--oddly familiar, when I actually thought about it--asked politely.

            “The strawberry milkshake with chocolate syrup is to die for, personally-”

            “Ah, I’ll take that then!” He leaned forward a bit, setting his menu down.

            “Alright, then. Is there anything else I can get you? Do you guys think you’re ready to order?” A few nods and orders later (one that was...needlessly complicated from Himari, admittedly), I walked off to deliver the order and make their drinks quickly. When I arrived back at the table, setting their drinks down carefully, I made sure to pointedly step over Thana’s foot, smiling carefully. Maybe it was just me, but it felt like this was becoming personal now. It’s one thing if it’s an accident, it’s another if it happens again in the same place. I handed her her drink with a warm smile just as her expression turned to one of shock. To her credit, she hid it well, though.

            At this point, I should’ve figured she was friends with Himari.

            “Uh, hey!” I heard the boy stop me just before I was leaving to attend another table. “I’ve...I’ve seen you around school, I think.” His smile was earnest and his accent became immediately familiar because it was so close to my own. Yep--definitely American.

            “Oh, right! Aren’t you in the cooking club with Rin?” I felt as if I could recognize him, then. He was the boy I met a while ago--the one who was going to grab paper towels to clean up a mess in the club, if I remember correctly. If I also remembered correctly, I’d quite literally barreled into him. I felt my face heat up a bit in embarrassment at the memory and I cleared my throat, straightening my posture a bit.

            “Yeah, I am. You’re the leader of the...Occult Club, right?” I resisted the urge to deflate and puffed up a bit with pride. For a second, I’d forgotten I was seen as a freak. My bad.

            “Yep. Emiri Shuisen, proud president of the coolest club ever. No offense to the cooking club or drama club, though. They’re pretty tough competition.” I sent them a wink and I noticed Thana trying to hide a recoil in disgust and Himari shifting in her seat uncomfortably, cheeks reddening. I was probably acting embarrassing, but I had to admit it felt a bit satisfying watching them look uncomfortable. The boy, on the other hand, let out a warm laugh.

            “I always thought it was kind of a cool club. Unique, at the very least. I’m Dewayne Caerwyn, but most call me Dewey.” He held out a hand, and my eyebrows rose in surprise. It wasn’t every day that you found someone who could appreciate the “weird” club. I gladly took his hand and shook it, despite the awkwardness of reaching across the table. Himari and Thana sent us confused glances. Ah, right, the silent “no-contact” rule. I quickly ended the handshake and did a quick bow instead.

            “It’s nice to hear that at least someone can appreciate my club. Usually, we’re just called weird freaks-”

            “Because you are.” Himari interrupted, sending me a cold stare and lightly hitting Dewey on the arm.

            “...But I have to get back to work.” The smile on my face became strained in a matter of minutes. I didn’t wait to hear what anyone else said afterward, instead focusing on waiting on my other tables. Despite my best efforts, it seemed that for every compliment Dewey tried to give as I passed by, Thana  _ and _ Himari both deposited insults.

            In elementary school in the States, they tell you to ignore bullies or laugh it off. That retaliation isn’t the answer. This was not the case here. In fact, ignoring the two only seemed to make them  _ more _ determined to give me as much hell as physically possible. Even Dewey looked disturbed and tried to apologize for their behavior. What I wasn’t expecting was who broke the tension first.

            I went outside for a quick five-minute break to gather my bearings. Akari and Mai both noticed how touchy my customers were being and how personal it was becoming and thought it best if I had a few minutes to calm down. I leaned against the doorway, pressing my hands against my eyes lightly in exasperation.

            “You think you’re so superior, don’t you?” I almost jumped out of my skin, startled by the sudden accusation. I saw Thana standing in the doorway, her face flushed with anger. The height difference between us didn’t help, either. She seemed to loom over me ominously.

            “I don’t understa-”

            “Of course you do! You can’t say that you don’t get it--what is even with you?” She accused. I had expected her not to like me for some reason, but...she seemed dedicated to the role of someone who was too friendly and it was startling to see her act so hostile so suddenly. I had begun wondering if I had somehow crossed a line that I didn’t even know existed.

            “You’ve got practically every boy you know wrapped around your pinky finger. What kind of girl are you?” She jabbed a finger at my chest and I took a step back, growing increasingly unnerved. “First, you have that silent kid always following you around. So weird! Everyone thinks you’re dating, you know.” My nose wrinkled in disgust at that. I did love Seskiel, yes. But only like I could love a brother--and he felt the same. We had sorted out our boundaries years ago. “Then, you got that stupid Russian boy even going to your house alone. Everyone knows it, so what’s up with that?” Confusion was the next thing to hit me. “You’ve even got Len wrapped around your finger! ‘Best friends’ my ass! What did you do to deserve him, huh?! Especially when you keep playing with him and every other boy you know! Just stay away from people who are half-decent, won’t you, you whore?!”

            My world tilted again as she shoved me to the ground, apparently oblivious to some of the attention she had gathered from her rant. Though, to be fair, I wasn’t too focused on that either. Several emotions ran through me all at once--fear, confusion, self-doubt, self-loathing, self-pity, a lot of self-somethings, and the intense need to defend myself. Before I could even begin, though, she raised a foot with the clear intention to kick me in the face. I held my breath and time seemed to slow down. I winced, closing my eyes and raising my hands to defend myself, but the impact never came.

            I slowly opened my eyes to see Toby looming over both of us, angrier than I had ever seen him ever before.

            “What the hell do you think you’re doing to one of my servants, plebeian?” He hissed, sneering, eyes wide. He had grabbed onto her shoulder and, judging by his white knuckles, the grip was quite painful. I shivered and quickly scrambled to my feet, brushing my skirt off awkwardly. It seemed silly, worrying about my uniform, but the action brought a familiar sense of relief. 

            “This one, too, huh?” I didn’t even have to look at her--I could feel her accusing stare. I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Slut. Whore. You’re nothing-”

            “I have no romantic interest in anyone.” I turned to her, forcing my expression to seem deadpan and emotionless. Choking on fear, I continued. “They are my friends--practically family. That’s why they check up on me. Sorry for giving you the wrong idea. I hope you can forgive me for misleading you and learn to move on from this. Toby, let her go.” I began walking into the restaurant, admittedly walking faster than I normally do to get in quicker. I was met by a concerned Mai almost immediately.

            “What did you do? What did she do? Are you alright-”

            “I’m fine, Mai, I’m fine...I just want to get back to work.” I smiled, shifting my weight from foot to foot. While she looked like she questioned this behavior, she didn’t question it any further. Toby wordlessly sat down at the bar while I finished ringing up Dewey, Thana, and Himari’s table. Thana kept giving me dirty looks over her shoulder the entire time while Himari sent me...mixed glances. I ignored both and soon, they left. Dewey, though, seemed to stay behind to take care of the bill and approached me personally. I looked at him, surprised. I was sure Thana might have said something to them that drove him off, but, I supposed I was lucky this time.

            “Hey...sorry about that. Thana’s a bit...difficult, but if you give it time, you’ll come to love her.” He smiled, handing over exact change. I slowly nodded, still looking surprised. “You seem like a good person and, for the record, I don’t think you’re a whore.” His expression darkened a bit and he gave me a sincerely apologetic expression. For a moment, I wondered why such a nice boy hung around such rude girls. Then, I reminded myself to stop being a “Nice Girl” and to not question his decisions. I froze when he patted my shoulder reassuringly. It seemed as if Dewey hadn’t quite gotten used to the silent “no touching” social rule of Japan. I gave him a sheepish smile and continued. “Chin up, ok? Good luck, Shuisen.”

            “Ah...just call me Emiri. You seem to not mind any of the other social rules here thus far.” I spoke briefly in English and he paused, looking shocked. “Sorry. I’m a  _ hafu _ . Grew up in the states.” My smile felt more relaxed at this. “I thought your accent seemed familiar.”

            The boy’s face went beet red and he shuffled in place, looking embarrassed. Maybe that...wasn’t the right move.

            Then, however, he smiled and nodded.

            “Alright, Emiri. Thank you.” He responded back in English, sounding relieved. “Cya at school tomorrow. Maybe. Uh. Yeah. Sorry, I’ll...bye.” He grinned, practically skipping out of the diner. I laughed, shaking my head. I heard someone’s throat being cleared and turned to look at Toby, who raised a single eyebrow. I got the silent message and tapped out with Akari, taking over the bar for the time being.

            “What was that all about?”

            “With Thana, or Dewey? Because I have no idea what brought that up with Thana.” I had to admit, though, it had me feeling self-conscious. Did I really seem like I was flirting with the boys? A rock of regret seemed to settle in the pit of my stomach and a curled in on myself a little. “Dewey, I think he’s just being nice. I’m going to guess he moved here this year or last year since he doesn’t seem quite used to the culture here yet.” Toby slowly nodded, though it still seemed like he had questions.

            “Whatever, peasant. Get me a soda.” I rolled my eyes.

            “What kind,  _ your highness _ ?”

            “Don’t you sass me, servant.” He narrowed his eyes. “I want a Coke.”

            “Anything for you,  _ sir _ .” He nodded in approval, and we kept the conversation for the rest of the time he was there. The rest of the day wasn’t nearly as eventful, but I was glad for that. It seemed like today was already too much. Between Thana, Himari, and Dewey, life seemed to be getting more and more complicated by the second. Dewey, at least, seemed like he’d be a helpful ally in trying times such as this.

            Hours later, I explained the situation to Akari and Mai as we changed out of our uniforms and people who usually took the night shift came in. Akari took all of her willpower not to go on another screaming rant and Mai kept her stoic, motherly mojo as always. However, that night, as I left to head for the train back home, something hit me. Sitting in the near-empty train and staring out the window, I realized that something Thana said earlier had been bothering me--the thing that threw me off the most and I didn’t even see.

            How did she know that the boys had been coming to my house alone sometimes?

            The hands gripping my keys in a Wolverine-like way tightened in a fist. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I stared at the text, face turning paler with each passing second.

_             “Told you.” _ A new, unknown number had texted me.  _ “I’m your friend here, and you need to listen to me. You’re not safe in that house. If you don’t do something now, you’ll be next.” _

            The next day, I had someone come by after school to change the locks on my house and put thin sheets that supposedly kept out bugs over the windows.

            The following Tuesday, Thana joined the girls that usually attempted to beat me up before school. Himari, this time, watched in silence before leaving halfway through.


	9. ?̧̤̍͂ͩͦͬͅ?̫̦͖͙̻͙̣ͧͩ̔͗͂ͮ̌?́̒̈́̚

AN: Special fangz (geddit, coz Im goffik) 2 my gf (yes in that way ;;;;) ) rin (wumbowomyn666), kala (XxreadroyalxX), and lem (dragomaflyo) 4 helpin me wif da story and spelling. U rok! Nickle ur da luv of my deprzzing life u rok 2! P!ATD ROX!!1!

 

Hi my name is Emri Akai Dahlia Denko Ka’waii-chan Shoesin and I have long curly brown hair (that’s not how I got my name, b-baka!) with pink streaks and blue tips that reaches my butt and camo green eyes like a mysty forest and people tell me I look like Bella Swan (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I am not related to Xiumin but I wish I was because he’s a majro fucking hotitie!! I’m an American but I’m not fat or stupid. I have medium-toned brown-ish skin. I am also half Japanese, and I go to a high school called Sukora high school in Japan where I’m in my eleventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a pastel goth pink crop top tee and baby blue skirt combo with a black leather studded jacket and ripped patterned black stockings. I was wearing a pink eyeball bow (which I made myself!1) and a smokey grey eyeshadow that was complimented by my pink lip stick and black eye liner. I was walking outside of Sukora. It was raining and the sun was shining, which wasn’t really goth, but I likd the rain anywho. A lot of preps stared at me (probably because I wasn’t wearing the unifrom). I put up my middle finger at them.

 

“Hey Emri!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was...W͕͍͓̤̗̺̲ͅa͏̨̨̗̖͉̮i͚̩̱̦͜͠ͅͅt̨̩̩̰͕͞ͅ.̧̛̖̖̮̻̠̜͔̘.̘̼͍͜͜.̣̗̤̩͓w̪̬͈̤̟̦͎͇͘̕h̸̨̹͚̠͇͔͖͈o̧̳̯̩͎̳ ̶̤͔̥͈̥̻̠̯i̧̪̗͟s̴̮͜ ͓̘̰̻̤̗͈̭͙͞t̡͈͈͔͖ḩ̴̲͇̠ą̦̟͉̫ͅt̳̬̮͢?̰͔ ̙͕͓͚̝͈̱T̢̪̼̟̙͝h̷͕͎͎̗͇͕̮̼i̸̯̭͙͓̠͉͖̜͢s̡̞͕͖.̸͓̦̞.̵̻̰̻̪͉.̷̘̤̯̺̤̦̯̮͘T̤͕̪̞̳͚̠̬͝h̡̥̲͚i͍̬͎͎͟s̶͕͓͇ ̥̯̣̭̺̤̰͇į̳̖͔͝s̬̻͙̯̱̜̣̱̱͘͜n̴̲̟͍̝̟͕͙͡'͏͚͇̫͍͍̫͔̫t̛̗͔̩̜̱͎̼͎͞ ̢͙̦̯͠ŗ̸̷̰̘i̝̺̘̘͍g̛̖̯͖̦̥̠̭h̷̷̝̦̭͞t̤̱͇͚̩̼͘.͏͟҉͈͙̙̠̤̤͕ͅ.͔̪̳͔͠.͍̼͖̭̺

 

“What’s up W̗̹̫̟͓h̵̵̦͈͙̥ą̥̗̰̫̯̟̺t̫̥̙̣̕'̶̸̮͕̹͔͔̩̖̟͝s̷͓̰̜͡ ͏͍̺̻͕͜h͢҉͉͇̼a̮̩p̩̖̹̼͙̝͖͠͡p̷̧̣͡e̺̼̰͓̼͘͜n҉̺̯̯͎̹̕į̩̟̣̘̤̯̞͜n̷͖̳̫̫̝̥͖̝g̴̡̞̩̺̝?̴̢͏̗͕̻̰̖̟̻͉ ̶͔̣̤͈̕͡W̤̮̲̫̯͠h̖͉͎̣͕̟̪͘͠y͏̦͇̘̮̫̕ ̵̠̖͠i̥̹̫̖͘s̴̹͖̝̫̺͘ͅ ̱̮̫̹ͅt̛͈̩̼̙̜h̶̝̤̮̜̳͉i̷̶̝͕͚̫̼͍̮̘͡s̡͢͏͚ ̢̻̹̟͈̩̯͜͞h͚̜̳̙ą̥p̨̪̝͕͕̣̘̦͚̫p̸̭̪̬̞̦͎̪̞e̡̳͝n̩͚̤̘̫͍̯̰͈i̫̳̮̼̹̹n̨̮͕̱̻̩̼͞g̨̝͇͖̯͓͔̳̟͡ͅ?̨̡̤̼̦͓̖̙̯͓!̡̹͎̥̞̲̳̦̝͟͟” I asked.

 

“Nothing...(´･ω･`)” he said shyly.

 

Bu t  the nn I heard my firends call me and what..what is going on? Why͉̭̖̖ ̮͓͚̫i͏̲̭͈̫͍s̸̼̬̯ ̦͕t͔̠̙͓͎̣h͈͚̗̝̩̥̤͠i҉͎͈͕͚s̴ ̟͇͘h̥̣͕̖̯a̻͖̦͍̟̯̯pp̖̼̺̻̜̣͘e̢n̯̹i̠n̗͔g ͏t͚̙o̼͟ ͍̹͈͙̲͉m̱͍̠͜e̹̻̰̟͞?̲͙͔̦̣͇̠ Ca͙̝̥̦̞n̵̗̜͙̳͉̝̩ ̷̬̬͢͢a̜͍̮̦n͏̢̫͓̰y̥̞̘̥̩̩̳ǫ͏̮͈̤͇̞͎͇n̷̸̴̜̬̞̹̹e̡͖̩̞̺͞ ͉̮h̡̘̟ȩ̯̰͉̳͉̙̰̮a̢̠̟̳r҉̥̱̲̱͕͉͉͠ ̳̭̠̱͔̮͚͠m̝̲͍͔̘̮̤͙e̡̟̹̮̞̳̤?̨̗̥?̨̗̣̩̙̺̕ S͏̫̻̪̖͈̣͠o̸͖̺͈̠̘͢m͎̩̝̮̲̥ę͔̞̥͖̱͔͠o͈͙̰̰̮͚͞ͅn҉͎̪̘̤̰̮e͖̭̺̘̥̳?̞̪̼̰͎̙͡?͈̻̘A̫͕͓͍̻͞͝Ņ̘̜̘̰̞̤̗̱͈̯̩͙͕͚̖͎̰̰ͅY̵̨̘̝͍̬̯̭̫O̟̭̩͇̥̻̩͍͘̕͟ͅN̶̨͙̺̖͈̗̻̲E̷̷̗̜̫͖̻͈̱͉̰̙͈͝ͅͅ?̵̶̙̝̩̤̲͕̻̠͔̕ͅ?̸̹̪͖͚̣͇͖̜̣̬ͅ?̴̨͔̥̲͈͚͎͈͉̻̦

  
  


Ş̭̻̭̼̮̼̥͈͈͉̮̭̞̞̻͍̀̈̽̔͋ͣ͐ͭ͠͠ͅO͋́̈͂͐ͣ̽ͧ͗̈̐̍͑͌͊́͟͡͏̨̣̤̫̮̼̙͉̱̭͖ͅM̢̤̦̘̼̙̦̮͖̹̞̻̼̪̜͂̃ͭ̈͐̉̽̌̄ͧ̃̎̋ͣ͑̄ͪ͊͟ͅE̴̷̢̞͓̦͕̲̪̭̫͈͉̳͈͙͓͙̲̹̓̌ͯͣͮͨ̈̓͞B̛̝̤̭̺͇̪̥̘ͤ̒̏͛ͣ͞͞O̶̡̩̟̮̻̘̪͓͍͕̓ͯ̿͆̐͗ͣͮ̓͆̑̎ͯͨͣ̍͜͜D̶̛̏̏̍̀͟͠҉̺̩̘̞̟̻̖̝̮̱Ỷ̶̧̈́͑͐́͛̿̓̂͋̅̍ͨ҉̝̩̙̯͖̘P̠͓̣̗̹̜͇̠̻̞͓͇̜͙̣̣̳̬̪̃ͫ̍ͧ͊͋̓ͮ̃ͤ̋̀̂̃̀͞͡L̶̛̫̜̼̣̻̜̘̠̲̫̙͚͚̜̙͓̻͖̯̋̊ͪ͌ͤ̍̓̓̏̑̾ͯ̂ͮ̽̀̚̕͟Ė̵̳̱̻̲̗̟̳̻̻͖͍͔̮̳̘͖̥̻ͮ͌͑͗̒̔ͨ̌̈́̄̿̿̀͑̕ͅA̴̼͉͇̱̩͍̫̭̲̞̻̯̓ͭ͊͑̚ͅS̸̨͓͍̯̘̰͔̜̭̱̱̠̅ͮͭ̇ͦ̈̔ͫ͆̅̃ͥ͋͗͘ͅE̶̛̥̯̣͙̥̤̥̰ͮ̑͐̓ͬ͆̍̃̔̄͂̓ͥͫ̚̕H̢̩̹̬̥͓͔̼͚͍̞͇̯̬̞̹̣̭ͣ̔͒͌̃̄̉̈́̈́ͬ͆͝E̴̢̪̲̖̜̲̘̫̯͍̦̪̳̺̪͓͍̜͖͚͋̂͊̃ͧ̔̋͆̇̑̾͘L̔̉̄̾̅̎̅͆̐ͤ̿҉̸̨̠̩̩͈͙P̧̗̻͈̯̘̹̼̳͇ͣ̊̋͊̏ͨ͘͘͡M͂ͤ̾͑ͫ̃ͭ̄̀̑̊ͧ̈́҉̵͈̻͔͓̳͚̗̭E̔̇̉̿̚͟͏̵̢͙͍͇̞̠͚O̴̧̧̮̞̩͔͇̳̺̤̦͎͍̟̝͍͙̮̟ͨ̏͗̀̈́ͥ̆͑̂ͪ͛̐ͣͨ̿͝H̸̨̻̟̘͕̲̯̫̩͇̬̪ͣ̄̏͌̾̋̃̚̕G̋ͨͬ̉͒͊ͫ̽̄̌͊ͧ͋͟͏̵̤̲̼͙͕͔͔̥ͅÓ̧̧̫̮̰̪̖͙͔̗̳̞̦̖̹̹̳̬̺̆̏̊͗̋̿̃̀͒̄̂D̨̰͚̥̣̲̠̳̣̘͉͚̻͈̎ͦ̈́̇ͦ̄̑͂̾̕͟͢ͅS̵̛̊͆̄ͪͩͧ̏̋̂͒̂̉̀҉̱̯̭̩̞̝̺̗͙͓̘̬̮͢Ȯ̎ͧ̎ͫ̈̔̇̂̈́̚̕͏̴̢̮͈̞̘̣̤͙̗̮̺̠̘͈̩͓͍̫Mͩ͌͗͊̃̋̈̓͒̅ͣ̌̄̉҉̴̧̨̠̙͈̗͖͔̭̮͚̱̤̦̯͖̤̱͍͓̯Ę̵̴̈́ͭ͒́̑́ͬͣͨͫ̒͌̇̔̅͗̏̚҉̥͇͚͕̼̪̺̹̣̘͢O̔̌̓͌̈̅ͬ͗̾ͭ͋̃͋ͣͭ̏͂͏͇̭͖̮͟N̷̨̛̖̼͚̖̳̪͇̜̻͔̳̬̰̞̫͆̃̌͒ͥ̔ͯ̎ͣ͒̌̋͌ͦ̊̏̿̿̚͟͞ͅĚ̢̻͎̤̲͈̩̞͈̹̘̱͖͕̘͚ͥ̒͑ͬ͊̑̒̑ͤͨ̿̎́̆͘͡͠P̷͆͑̉̒̂͡҉͈̱̪̩͉̹̱͕̝͈ͅL̨̒͌̇̊̆̾́̋ͫ̚͏̸̛̹̻̙̝̞̣̩̠͙̱͓̜̞̫̘͈̖ͅͅE̫̭̟̳̝̰͉̳̣̻̟̪͖̞̥͙͉̣ͩ̂̀̈́͗ͮ͒̈ͥ̊ͧ̎͒͟A̡͈̤̣̮̥̗̭̜̟̜̬̩̯̔ͥ̃̒ͣ͌ͬͭ͒̕S̴̨̨͖̬͚̰͆ͬ͑ͬ͛͋̓̚͞͠E̿̎ͫͮ͛̎̋̎ͨ̊́ͫ҉̡̖̭̱̘͘͞Ȟ̶̸̢̬̠̜̊͂ͨ͂͐ͤ̿̿ͥ̚͠͡Ẹ̴̮̰̗̼̜ͧͭͯͫͦͪ͌͛ͧ̓̆̿ͦͭ̄ͮL̢̢̛̠̦̹̹̘̤̠͕͉͚̰̤̫̈́̏̊ͥ̀ͦ̏͊ͧ̔ͦ͋͒̉ͦͫ̚P̡̞̖̰̦̞̞̫ͪ̆̆ͪ̔͆ͤ̓̑͘͢M̨̢̲͈̜͉̙͖̥̥̞̝͇ͣ̀̈̂ͩͧͨ̐͒̈͐̅ͬ̉ͩ̑̆͆͘͘͠E̓̂ͤͪͯ̎̅͏͏̴̷̧̙̘̭̲͚̰̺̟͙̗̲̹̦̝

  
  
  


[System error has occured. Forced system reboot has begun.]

 

[Virus detected. Virus deletion eminent.]

 

[Virus deleted. Reboot complete.]

 

[Launching program Author.exe]

 

Ah, there we are! Good to be back, my dear audience, good to be back indeed. Do not worry your heads at the slight... _ malfunction _ that occured this afternoon. Our best team is working on the issue at hand. In the mean time, chapter nine is in the works and completely planned. Buckle in, folks, because these next few chapters are going to be a wild ride. Have a nice afternoon (morning, day, or night) and thank you for your patience and following the development of The Midnight Confessionals.

 

Oh, and happy April Fools.


	10. Chapter 9

            We weren’t friends from the first time we met. In fact, I originally had thought they were just rich, spoiled, transfer kids from Europe. I suppose that may sound a bit hypocritical, but at the time, I had been forcing myself to live solely off of what I earned and trying to prove myself. While it was entirely hypocritical, I still found that I had my excuses for behaving the way I did. It’s easy to do that when you’re a freshman in highschool, surrounded by hundreds of people you don’t know in a country you rarely visit--being alienated by people for having a slightly darker skin tone, curly hair, and bright green eyes despite having all the right “shapes.”

            Maybe I didn’t like them because their friends bullied me since the first day I arrived. Maybe I was too weak to deal with what discrimination I faced. Maybe it was just a really long fucking year and I was done with even the tiniest bullshit from someone else. It was most likely a combination of all three, but whatever the reason, Len and Rin Byers were not my favorite people in the world.

            Of course, that didn’t stop them from trying to interact with me. They were incredibly social people, despite the obvious secrets and inside thoughts the twins kept to themselves and themselves alone, locked in their private world. Rin started the trend--try and sit next to me at lunch while I was researching about the club topic of the day to compliment me and start up a conversation. I had the respect to act polite, even if I felt like it was the setup to some huge joke. After all--no matter how friendly I had tried to be with anyone upon first moving, very few people actually cared to try and talk to me besides Seskiel. I thought, at first, she was trying to gain my trust as a dare or to set up for some sort of prank. In my wait for the second shoe to drop, it never did.

            Len, however, was more obnoxious in his approach. He always attempted to drag me (and other members of the Occult Club) into conversations in the most random and strange ways possible (“Tuna or salmon?!” He demanded to know once, only to squawk in indignation for liking salmon while he liked neither).

            The final straw was when he tried to flirt with me. One day, during a free period in our home room due to the upperclassmen taking an important test or something, the blonde walked right up to me, sat  _ on my desk _ while I sat at it, and in the most serious way, he asked:

            “Have you ever played Wizard101?” I was stunned for a good seven seconds before I took a deep breath and decided to indulge him.

            “Yeah, when I was younger. I haven’t opened the account back up in a few years, though.”

            “What school were you?” Several of the students had begun to stare now--it wasn’t surprising, as this was  _ Len Byers _ I was talking to. It was kinda weird to see someone like him try and talk to me seriously like this.

            “Life, if I recall correctly.” I sent him a hesitant look, but still tried to keep my smile. He smirked, as if I’d just fallen into some sort of trap and leaned closer.

            “Neat...I was a death wizard. So, if opposites attract, how do you feel about me?” I could see Rin looking at him exasperatedly across the room, muttering “oh god” and beginning to walk over to stop him. “You bring me to life.” He winked and Rin groaned, beginning to apologize.

            “Not my fault that  _ you’re my weakness _ . I guess you can say that I like  _ Wu _ . You know, you really bring a lot of  _ life _ into the room. I love you to  _ death _ .” He began winking along to every punch line, getting closer and closer with each line, smirk growing. Rin groaned loudly now, pulling him away from me and trying to pull him off of the desk. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stood. The few students that stared now watched with bated breath. 

            “Howdy lil’ wizard!” The twins stopped their bickering to stare at me as in astonishment. My eyes were open again and I smirked back, speaking in English with my best imitation Southern accent. “My name’s Prospector Zeke! I see that Headmaster Ambrose has recruited you into doing some of his menial labor--I mean,  _ extracurricular work _ for him...If you wouldn’t mind, I have a task for you as well! And it won’t be easy as finding the Smiths.” I was met with astonished silence still. “You see, I’ve lost an old family heirloom that is very powerful and grants its owner abilities--it’s yours if you can find it! It’s called the idol of ‘fuckofficus.’” My tone dropped as I reached the last sentence, raising an eyebrow and frowning.

            The room was quiet, you could almost swear you could hear a pen drop on the floor above us. Suddenly, Len looked so serious, I was almost scared. He almost looked...intimidating. Maybe even scary. I tensed up, but stood my ground. Though, I was silently wondering if I had ruined my freshman year after having made it so far into the year. It was almost disappointing.

            “Where do I begin?” The rest of the day was spent joking around and connecting over shows we watched, games we played as kids--we even got our laptops out to play said ridiculous game until the period was over. I didn’t even mind the looks some people gave me, and apparently neither did Rin or Len. When Seskiel came to find me after class, he had given the twins strange looks, but soon gave them the closest thing to a smile Seskiel would ever come to in appreciation for their kindness. Little did I know, that’d be the start of one of the best friendships I had made in my life.

 

* * *

  
  


            I’d taken to reminiscing when getting beaten in the mornings these days, just as the girls had taken to kicking and punching. Really, I had to give them more credit--they were smarter than they looked, making sure to only hit places where the bruises wouldn’t be as easy to see--a kick to the back of the head, a punch to the gut, it was all the same. At least, they were smart about it. By the time I’d gotten back to class, no one was any the wiser and I silently decided it was probably better that way. At the very least, I wasn’t a snitch.

            The school had fallen back into its old routine--as if Hana Fujioka wasn’t found dead in the school courtyard three weeks ago, even if the stubborn faint blood stains outside on the pavement proved otherwise. Either way, I had to admit I was happy that people were at least pretending to be fine. I missed school, as weird as it sounded. I found it easier to stay focused in class these days--it was better to pay attention and ignore Thana’s staring drilling holes into the back of my skull. It didn’t matter--I had several good things in my life at the time, anyways. Len and Seskiel seemed to had made a truce a week after their fight, even coming to terms with each others’ feelings. The silent truce came after Len and Seskiel had a huge fight with Stefan over something petty, and the three had been avoiding each other since. Mutually, they decided that they had had enough with not only the fighting (not only between Len and Seskiel, but the fights Stefan often brought up with his attitude when in a bad mood) and decided it was time to just...get some air from each other. Before I knew it, the day had quickly passed. Thinking about the past few weeks had proven to be quite the useful distraction--not enough to stop me from taking notes, but enough to stop me from thinking of other things.

            I walked, arms linked with Seskiel as he, Rin, Dewey, Toby, and I walked down to the occult club while Len and Thana went next door to the Drama Club with several other ex-Cooking Club members. Since Hana’s death, the Cooking Club had been disbanded to honor her memory. Its members were now scattered, some going to find new clubs without officially joining. The leaders of those clubs, like myself, understood. Everyone was having a difficult time these days. Keith had been excited for the new members and even Yui, a shy girl who usually sat in the back of the room, smiled and welcomed the three ex-Cooking Club members with open arms.

            “Alright, everyone.” I began, smiling at the group that had gathered in the room. “Today, we will be making protection charms. There’s no specific culture this charm applies to, as it’s derived from the idea of the ‘evil eye.’ The ‘evil eye’ is said to be a curse cast by a malevolent stare, typically cast when the other person isn’t looking. This curse has been shown to give misfortune or cause injury to the one it has been cast upon.” Cue several interested hums of approval. My smile grew a bit wider and I felt not-so-alone. It was nice to be back in the club--I figured it would be a nice relief after tonight, as well.

            “To counteract this curse, it is often customary to create talismans, also called ‘evil eyes,’ to protect yourself and others you care about from ‘evil eyes.’ However, if you want to avoid future confusion, just call the talismans ‘nazars.’ They’re pretty common to see, actually--you’ll see them most often in mostly-Christian countries throughout the Middle East and Europe. That’s why we got some of these weird-looking eyeball beads and a lot of normal-looking beads on the tables for you guys.” I pulled a necklace off of the display on a counter and there were several “oh”s of realization. Without too much further instruction, the club members jumped on in to the activity. By the end of the club period, Rin had made one for just about everyone in the friend group and Seskiel one had the time to make one, having to stop Toby from “killing the beads for their insolence and not obeying his command” too many times. Toby pouted, but was satisfied with the scraggly-looking one he promptly gave to Rin. Afterwards, he made quiet conversation with Seskiel and Rin while Seskiel began his nazar.

            Tucking the two nazars I’d managed to make into my pocket, I resolved to mail them to my parents as soon as I got the chance. Before Seskiel took his leave, something about having to leave early to deal with his annoying cousin (who was a total dick, in my opinion--a stuck up, entitled brat) and cleaning up a mess he made, he gave me the slightly sloppy nazar. It was only long enough to make half of a bracelet or an earring, but that was enough. I hugged him before he left, standing on my tiptoes to pat his head in farewell.

            I was cleaning up the club room and, just before I was about to leave with the leftover materials, Dewey stopped me at the door to give me the pink and blue charm he’d made for me, the eye bead being a strange misty grey-hazel color that I had never seen before in a nazar bead. It, too, was very short.

            “Look, I...I know you don’t talk about it to Seskiel, or Rin, or Len...or, anyone really, and that’s really surprising, because you and Seskiel tell each other everything, but…” He paused to give me a serious look. “I hate how those girls treat you. You really deserve better, and I hope someday you’ll stand up for yourself. And...you know, if that day never comes, don’t hesitate even for a second to call me, ok? I’ll be there in an instant. I...really care about you as a friend, Emi, and I hope that they stop.” He finally met my gaze after looking at the ground and I felt shocked. I didn’t think anyone realized what was happening besides those directly involved.

            “Thanks, Dewey. That...That really means a lot to me.” A small, soft smile spread across my face. “I’ll try and do my best, I promise.”

            He walked me out of the school before we had to part ways--after all, I had a job tonight. As soon as he left, the cheerful smile dropped off of my face. In its stead, a determined glare sat there. I turned my heel, walking the opposite way home.

            Soon enough, I found myself at the nearest super store and grabbed a cart. The protection charms weren’t the only thing I had been saving money for. The nazars both Seskiel and Dewey gave me tied into a bracelet around my wrist, I walked with the cart down the store isles like a soldier walking into battle. Tonight was going to be different.

            The person that had been sneaking into my house had been getting bolder. The security system wasn’t working, the cops chalked it up to my over-imaginative teenage head or a prank, and my parents doubted anyone could get past the system, trying to tell me it cost a lot of money and that it was probably just the old house making noises. However, I knew better. Houses didn’t make footsteps, and they didn’t heavily breathe outside of your door, trying to find a way to get in. Thus far, the lock and chair had held up. Reinforcing the windows, too, had helped. However, not even changing the locks, it seemed, could keep this person out, whoever they were. So, I determined it was time for me to get inventive. After having marathoned the Home Alone series in between classes and at home, I took note of what worked and what didn’t and did my research.

            The first thing to keep in mind was that I wanted as little people to be involved as possible: that meant no telling Seskiel (who got touchy around blood), Rin (who never could handle intense situations), Len (who either became too violent or ran away--there was no in between), Toby (who would get extremely violent no matter what), Stefan (again, once he found out what this person was doing, violence would be had), or Dewey (who I didn’t know well enough to tell).

            The second thing was that the police were well-aware of my situation, but were too busy with cases that were considered “hot”--ones that already had leads, suspects, action that could be taken. However, the promised to have a car sitting on the main road to keep an eye out. “Eye out” my ass...they never listened when I tried to explain to this guy wasn’t taking the main roads, but somehow branching off and sticking to the tree line on the way to the Hill House. Of course, superstition ran deep, even in the city. It was hard to get an officer not superstitious enough to come down, though when they finally got someone, I was glad. The man seemed competent despite the assignment and instructions given to him.

            The third thing was that the mysterious dick that had been texting me these past few months seemed to slowly be giving them self away. Despite the sketchiness of how he’d (yes, a confirmed boy) received my number and refused to identify himself, he’d proven to be quite helpful. It seemed as if even if I felt alone, with only my one police officer waiting at the end of my hundred yard driveway and a fierce independence-complex, my stalker had someone stalking them back and reporting to me. I had even taken to calling him Texter due to his lack of official name. Texter refused to give the identity of my stalker, hoping they would give it up and leave me alone. Since they hadn’t, I had decided to take matters into my own hands without telling him. Despite everything and how creeped out Texter made me feel, I still felt bad for going behind his back. The whole thing felt surreal--like I was in some crazy, low-budget spy movie  _ like _ Home Alone. Even without telling him my plan, though, I knew his “updates” on my stalker would be helpful.

_             ‘Maybe I’ll tell him later,’ _ came the afterthought as I rolled the cart up to the checkout. The cashier gave me strange looks, but began to ring me up nonetheless.

            “Home renovations?” He politely asked, smiling awkwardly. He looked to be around my age and I felt slightly jealous--no matter how thrilling this whole “spy” thing was, I’d rather be at home studying for the exams that would be in four weeks. I’d rather be planning the quickly-approaching summer break with my friends. I knew there was probably a better way to go about this, but I felt done. I was at a crossroads between knowing I needed help and not wanting anyone else to get hurt in the process and I knew at this point, not even flying to America or dragging my parents over would make it much better. No--this was something that I felt I had to do alone, even if I realistically didn’t have to.

            “Yep. Major ones. It should be fun, though.” I enthused, the fake smile slipping back onto my face with ease. I was going to regret this later.

            “Ah, well, have fun. Your total will be…” After the pleasantries, I took the materials I needed back to the train and got home as quick as I could before the sun set. Texter told me the stalker never comes before sun down at the risk of being seen. Since his information had, so far, been accurate, I decided it was ok to trust him.

            Once I got home, the real work began. A tripwire went in front of the door after it was locked and a bucket of nails went above the door. If the tutorial I had found on YouTube proved to be any good at all, it would be enough to incapacitate the person after getting through the locked door. That, if I was lucky, was all I would need. However, most situations don’t tend to always go as planned in all cases. Because of that, the next tutorial I found would be extremely helpful.

            Of course, in Japan, several laws were more strict than they were in America. One of the laws that were more strict were the ones on items that were typically used for self-defense. While they were fairly cheap by American dollar standards, it was still a bit more difficult to buy them. Of course, it was looked down upon to think about buying anything anyhow, unless you were someone who lived in a place like Hokkaido where bear-repellant was a nice thing to have. In fact, it seemed the only go-to was to buy a keychain alarm that made a loud noise to alert people nearby. While I respected the officer, I doubted he would get here fast enough to stop someone before they tried something on me. So, again, I took it upon myself to go to YouTube for answers. It didn’t take long--apparently others had had similar concerns in the past. Someone even got the idea to rewire a disposable camera into a non-lethal taser. I didn’t trust myself with a blade or gun, but something like a non-lethal taser seemed perfect for my cause. It would be enough to cause a distraction so I could run away.

            The next hour was spent making the camera just right--I’d accidentally shocked myself with it several times in its making, so I could guarantee that it worked already. With my defenses set up and my phone on me, I sat at the top of the stairs, out of view from the door. I sat against the railing, waiting for something--anything, really--with all the lights in the house turned off. Sunlight still poked through the window and I sighed, going to my phone and going to my contacts. Texter was a good start in talking about this.

_             “I’m going to do something stupid and you’re probably going to be mad, but this is important and I don’t care what you think.” _ I took a deep breath and was startled by the near-instantaneous reply.

_             “What are you going to do?” _

_             “I’m ending this. I’m done with hiding.” _

_             “Emiri, what are you going to do?? Don’t be stupid about this, Emiri.” _

_             “Sorry. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. There’s a police officer at the end of my driveway anyways.” _

_             “Wait, what???” _ Several texts came after that, but I rolled my eyes and ignored it for the time being. I began to open Seskiel’s contact to send him a text to ask him how things went with his cousin before I heard something hit the door. I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. I quickly sent the message and held my breath, tucking my phone back into my pocket. I head the impromptu taser tightly, ready to use it. My heart stopped when I heard the latch unlock.

            It was at that moment I began to lose my nerve. My hands began shaking and I peaked around the railing just enough that I could see the door and still not be seen--despite that, though, it was difficult to see the door. It slowly began to swing open, and then the trip-wire was triggered. I jumped when the bucket of nails fell down and stood up, carefully going down the stairs with my taser ready to see what happened.

            My heart plummeted and my world automatically went cold at what I saw.

            “...I see you also went shopping today.” Thana said, standing in the doorway in front of the spilled nails and spilled bucket. My heart beat loudly in my ears as I watched her bring up a  _ fucking machete _ to her fingers in front of her, running her fingers along the blade. “However, I think I’ll be much more successful than you were. Next time, try setting up the trip wire so that the door doesn’t hit it.  _ Some people _ are smarter than that, you know.” My hands shook--almost to the point I dropped the taser. Carefully, with her foot, Thana began to sweep the nails out of the way with her foot to make a wide path for herself. Blood that had been drawn from her fingertips by the blade dripped onto the floor at a similar pace. She reached her fingers to her lips, licking off some of the blood.

            I’d never seen a smile so venomous in my life.

            The raven-haired girl walked, the blade swinging at her side as if it were an extension of her own arm. Every step in the silent house sounded like a clap of thunder--too loud and too much all at once. All the bravery and arrogance had vanished in mere seconds at the sight of this girl, whose coal black eyes still haunt me to this day. Those eyes that managed to somehow be empty but horrifically disgusted and enraged simultaneously--it felt like they cut straight through me. She let out a tiny giggle and brought the blade to my cheek, tracing my cheekbones before going back and pressing down. Not even the slight sting of pain could bring me back to reality in that moment--I was petrified by this whirlwind--this typhoon of pure, unadulterated hatred.

            “You’re a wretched bitch, you know that? I think it’s time you feel what I feel.” She raised an uncut finger to scrape her nail against the cut she made and brought it back towards her mouth, licking it with a look that could only be described as ecstatic rage, only held back by what little patience the girl seemed to have.

            That was the point I decided it was time to run, even if I felt my feet moving before I consciously made the decision to.


	11. Chapter 10

            The next thing I felt was my chin hitting the floor. For a split second, storms danced in front of my eyes. It felt like I was floating just above the surface of unconsciousness with thunder pulsing under my veins, a direct reflection of my heartbeat. For a second, I thought I was in the water once more.

            If only I had been so lucky. The typhoon called.

            Instead, Thana let out a giggle behind me and pulled her foot from under mine.

            “Honestly, I didn’t think you would fall for that twice. I mean--it was an impressive dodge the second time I tried, but it’s just sad that you didn’t see this coming.” A loud  _ thunk _ startled me out of my stupor and I looked to the side to see the machete had been impaled into the floor, right next to my head. It cut one strand of my curly hair far too short and when I rolled to face Thana, it hung in my face obnoxiously. The other girl’s long, straight, ramrod locks piled over her shoulders as she reached for the blade with a sickeningly sweet smile. Instinctively, I reached out at the same time with the disposable camera in my hand.

            The girl went wide-eyed, shaking for a few seconds before falling to her knees. She stared at me in absolute shock, her eyes trailing from the homemade taser up to my eyes.

            The gape turned into a grin and soon enough, she was cackling.

            “You shocked me! You actually shocked me! Do you even have a license for that? You could’ve killed me!” She cackled, ripping the taser from my hand, setting it on the floor, and ramming the machete through it. Pieces of plastic, wires, and leftover film flew across the room. “What if I had a pacemaker or something? Tasers like that are illegal, you know! I could totally sue you, but I’d rather you die instead! You’re lucky I don’t send your poor ass to prison for not being able to pay off the lawsuit after trying to taze me with something that’s probably extremely illegal.” She grabbed a fistful of my hair to raise my head and forcefully slam my face back onto the hardwood floor. A drop of warm liquid began to drip down the side of my face. Whether it was blood or sweat, I didn’t care. The storms in my head were back with a vengeance.

            “You know, you should’ve gone to Bargain-mart. I got this machete for just over two thousand yen at the store! Took a bit of sharpening, but at least I didn’t have to waste three thousand yen to set these pieces of shit up.” She muttered, as if this were more of a casual exchange than an attempted murder or assault. It would be charming if I wasn’t at the end of the blade.

            The blade...The blade that Thana was trying to pry from the floor after her impromptu assault against my poor camera-taser. The sole desire to live suddenly overrode the desire to hide in a corner in a desperate attempt to regain control of my own actions and, while she was distracted with the blade and I was still on my back, I put almost all the effort I could in kicking her in the face. My foot connected with her nose with a large  _ crack _ , but I didn’t take the time to assess the damage I’d done.

            I began to sprint before I even fully stood up, scrambling past the pile of nails (in the back of my mind, I took note to remember to thank Thana for the clear escape route later) and out the still-open front door with nothing but my knee-high sweatpants, pajama top, and distinct lack of both shoes and socks. In hindsight, it might’ve been better not to have changed clothes after I got home. Ignoring the pain screaming in my feet as I ran down the tattered cobble path barefoot, I noted how silent it became and took a second to look behind me. Standing in the doorway of my home, blood dribbling from her now-crooked nose, Thana stood there taking shallow, quick breaths. Her eyes were so wide, I thought they might pop from her head. Before I could comment, she let out a guttural scream and  _ charged  _ at me. No, not “I’m angry” charge, but “I have the strength of an NFL Linebacker and I want to kill you” charge. I took a deep breath and let out a shrill scream in return, facing back around to sprint faster and trying to ignore the liquid--which I now knew was blood--dribbling down the side of my face. 

            Not long after, I saw the police car come into view.

            “Officer Ito!” I screamed, reaching out to the car. The burlier man looked up from his laptop, his eyes slowly growing larger with realization. In the car, he struggled to get his seatbelt off and quickly got out of the car, holding an aluminum pole out to guard himself once he saw Thana with the blade. Before I could reach him, though, I was tackled from behind. Hearing Thana struggling above me, I turned my head to the side to avoid her machete landing in my skull. The waves swirling in and out of view scolded, telling me that I should’ve been more careful. I grumbled, ignoring them. Instead, I forcefully rolled over and scrambled across Thana’s body to continue sprinting towards Officer Ito. Although, it seemed Thana had a similar idea as she ripped her blade from the ground and gave chase once more. As soon as I was close enough, the officer swung around me and his pole clashed with Thana’s blade. The blood from her broken--at least, I was fairly sure it was broken--nose streamed down her face, making her look akin to something from a horror movie with the grin she had on her face and the cackling laughter that escaped her throat.

            “Shuisen, get the walkie-talkie from my car!” He barked, focusing on holding Thana back and trying to disarm her with the pole. From the looks of it, he was…actually winning. I nodded, uncaring whether he saw or not, finally feeling slightly calmer--I wasn’t alone. I pressed the button, turning the walkie on.

            “What do I say?” I called to him from the seat, watching the two carefully. While Ito had been trained well, it seemed that Thana was as well. Though, maybe not well enough. The blade slipped from her hands again but she caught it before it completely fell, going back in for an aggressive strike only to be blocked once more.

            “Just call for backup! Tell them where we are!”

            “Ok. Did..did anyone hear that? We’re at Hollow Hill, someone just tried to come into my house and-” I was stopped by the car shaking and I gasped, looking over to see the officer pinned against the car. My eyes widened in horror. “Someone, please! Get here right away, please, we need someone here right now-!” Voices began leaking through the box, voices asking questions, but none of them registered in my mind. Not after I could hear the thick squelch of the machete being stabbed into the officer’s chest. I dropped the walkie-talkie, staring with wide eyes at the girl, who was now just silently smiling with satisfaction in her work. Twisting the blade, she ripped it out of the officer’s chest. He was gasping for air, but the girl held a finger to his mouth and slowly forced him to sit against the car. A trail of blood was left against the window where he stood. The thunder rolled in my ears despite the sky being clear. The currents beckoned gently. I refused.

            Shaking violently, I rolled into the next seat, opened the door, and sprinted once more. A small chuckle later, and the girl--the fucking monstrous bitch--initiated the chase. It wasn’t something I wasn’t used to, running to town and such. I did it just about every day before the stalker--who, I supposed then had a name--decided to get more up close and personal in their endeavors. However--this run felt more painstaking. Perhaps taking the train to avoid Thana was a mistake, came the vague quiet thought in the back of my mind. Tears pricked up at the corner of my eyes as I ran from not only the thrashing wind that threatened to pull me away from consciousness, but the absolute terror that shook me to the bone as well. It didn’t seem like she would ever stop--that while my surroundings were familiar, I would never grow any closer to a solace.

            Familiar sirens sounding in the distance began to fill me with hope. The officers from the walkie-talkie heard us--they were coming, I was sure of it. My eyes widened and I began to grin, shouting for their attention as I heard them driving ever-so-closer. Before I could get too far or be seen, though, I was slammed into an alley as the cars rounded the corner. To my horror, they sped right past us...to my home. I cried out, forcing Thana off of me as she screeched insults and protests back. Narrowly dodging the swing of her machete, I scrambled to my feet to look at the opening of the alley--the cars were too far gone now. I idly wondered how long it would take to run back...or if those guys could even handle Thana at all. The storm was not on me--no, it filled my chest and threatened to burst out if I stopped moving, even for a second, no matter how much the pain dug into me.

            A blade swooping at my head brought me back to reality--even if that reality was fuzzy after being slammed into so many things in one night.

            In my head, where the ocean was still swirling and the whirlwind storms thrashed me about, the memory of the dance halls and cool current tried to call me back. The bliss of it all was so tempting--giving up and returning to the pleasant depths would be so easy. However, the city’s screeching tires, loud chatter, honking horns, and lively presence was louder than the call, sufficiently tethering me to reality. Even as I shook and my legs threatened to give out from under me, I continued to run. I knew I could outrun Thana. I was creating an ever-growing distance between us under the late city lights and, soon enough, I was confident that I had gained enough distance so I stopped to lean against a street lamp and huffed deeply, trying to catch my breath. Looking down at the ground, I noticed my feet were bleeding and blistered. I suddenly became aware that the pain I knew I should have felt didn’t register--not in my feet, cheek, or head. The nonexistent cool water seemed to surround me, healing my senses.

            I took a moment to look at my surroundings to try and guess where I was--what I saw surprised me.

            The brilliant neon lights of the diner shone before me like a beacon. I supposed in my rush and intense desire for a safe place to be, I had run to one of the safest places I knew--one where I had friends (specifically adult ones) who might be able to help me. The idea went away as soon as it had come. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into this, especially as the whole thing was my fault in the first place. It must have--I should have seen it coming.

            In hindsight, the whole “Thana is batshit insane” thing was fairly obvious. I frowned, taking a deeper breath to sigh, closing my eyes and appreciating the cooler night air. I paused, however, seeing familiar faces sitting at a table in the diner.

            Akari stood in front of Len and Rin’s table, staring directly at me through the large front window of the diner and giving me a strange look. Slowly, I raised a hand in a weak wave. I didn’t dare think of what I must’ve looked like--disheveled and in my pajamas, bleeding from my head. When the twins followed Akari’s line of sight, they immediately rose from their seats and began to make their way to the door with Akari. I could only vaguely hear that they were shouting something from within as the headed towards the door. My heart sped up.

            “Fucking bitch!” The startling I received from the sudden cry had me feeling like I was about to jump out of my own skin but instead, I turned my head and ducked the machete being swung at me. In the attempt to dodge the blade, I landed on the pavement, back on the ground and elbows being the only thing to support me.

            “Emi?!” Rin shouted out, terror in her voice. I didn’t look. I didn’t think. I rolled, forced myself up to dodge another swing, and began sprinting again. Break time was over--and I knew Rin and Len couldn’t follow either of us at this rate. The routine formed within the eternity of cat-and-mouse prepared us to go immediately back into a pattern of familiar dodges and swings during a never-ending chase. They didn’t know. They couldn’t follow.

            And, so, I continued running towards the one destination I could think of: the police department. Sure, Thana could take on one, two, maybe four officers if she tried. But she couldn’t take the whole squadron. I was pulled out of my thought processes when there was suddenly a guttural scream behind me. Before I could turn to look, I was tackled into the ground once more, the pavement scraping my skin. The girl on top of me rolled into the alley close by, pulling me into a tight, hostile embrace in order to drag me with her. When we stopped, the machete was aimed above my chest.

            My brain stopped functioning. There were no deliberate decisions anymore as the world slowed down and went silent. My hands flew up to protect myself and in the struggle, I wrapped my hands around the blade to do something, anything really, in order to stop her. In order to live. The pain that was supposed to be in my fingers, hands, everywhere...was all nonexistent. The blood on my face and hands felt only like warm water against the frigid air. The sense of pain was only feelings of slight flutterings of a nuisance, like it was only a distant memory. Instinct took hold of me and I threw the girl off, running the only way the girl hadn’t blocked off--the end of the alley. A dead end.

            In that moment of panic, I could only do what my mind thought natural and what might have been my only means of escape: I jumped to grab the bottom edge of a fire escape attached to one of the apartment buildings Thana and I were sandwiched between and shimmied up. From below, I could see Thana looking up in surprise before quickly brushing it off and rushing to follow. That left me not much time.

            Taking in a deep breath, I remembered all my gym classes where chin-ups were a necessity--the time when my old friends in middle school dared me to do thirty chin-ups and I didn’t leave the gym until I did, my muscles almost giving out. I hadn’t done anything close to chin-ups since then. Adrenaline, though, is a hell of a drug. If it could give mothers and fathers the strength to move cars to save their children, I silently reasoned, then I could scale the fire escape of this apartment complex.

            And so, I did. Thana didn’t quite get the message about adrenaline and tried to sprint up the stairs, tripping once or twice. I, on the other hand, propelled myself up, grabbing one railing at a time before throwing myself up enough to catch the next railing. Soon enough, I reached the roof. Once there, though, I almost felt lost. I sprinted to the opposite end, looking at the space between the building I was on and the next. The thought came that maybe I hadn’t thought this quite through all the way, but it was quickly silenced by the crashing waves. Thought-out plans could wait. Not-dying was more important. I stared over the side of the building, silently debating my next move. Another thought came, more stupid than the last, but with a startling clarity that made me pause. Everything else that had happened that night was stupid, so surely this might have been stupid enough to work, as well.

            I remember only thinking of how Seskiel was going to be so angry with me after he heard all of this. How Mom would scold me and Dad might have been impressed by what I’d done to get away from Thana. Rin might cry from being scared earlier. Len would scream and call me an idiot. Stefan--well, he hadn’t talked to me since Len and Seskiel fought with him. I supposed he wouldn’t care.

            Himari would laugh. Probably would’ve said I deserved it. It didn’t matter in the end, did it? Time returned to normal in time with the vanishing howls of the storms. The fuzziness cleared a tad.

            “You’re fucked now, whore.” The voice behind me was becoming more and more annoying, I realized. I looked at her over my shoulder, glaring and huffing. Throughout the emotional mood swings I had been in tonight, going from terrified to infuriated and back again--it would be appropriate to say that I was then in the “infuriated” part of the roller coaster. Slowly, I turned and began walking towards her like a soldier would walk into battle, one clear idea in mind.

            “Given up, have you? Good--this will be easier. Just be a good girl and don’t scream--wait--what are you doing?!” She screeched as I made a u-turn and sprinted towards the edge of the roof. Stepping onto the edge at the last step, I leapt into the air and felt the wind rush past me. Time stopped once more as I flew and the storms returned with an unsatisfiable vengeance. Victorious.

            Unfortunately, the next roof was shorter than I had imagined. I landed on my knees with the sickening crunch of the gravel of the flat top digging into my knees. From there, I rolled with the rest of my momentum until I came to a stop, groaning, and lying face-up. Thana was on the other roof, cackling once more. Something about calling me an idiot. I wasn’t sure. At that point, I was too done with her shit to even try and listen. Grumbling, I got up and sprinted to the side of the roof where the emergency exit was and jumped down before sprinting down the stairs. The pain and impact from earlier had slowed me down considerably, but it was enough to buy me time to get away from Thana again. After all--she still had to climb down her tower as well. The currents swayed in approval and the stars above gleamed with projected hope.

            The rest of the run to the police station was oddly quiet without having to hear Thana screaming profanities or listening to the rhythm of the city. The traffic had reached a dull lull since it had gotten quite late by then. A clock I passed while running told me it was well after an hour since I had begun running at the house.

            Regardless of how long it had actually been, it still felt as if I had set up those stupid, immature traps in the house a lifetime ago. I would’ve brought out my phone, if only to text Mom, Dad, or Seskiel what had happened. Or that I was sorry for being so stupid. Or that I loved them more than I could ever love myself or anything else. Preferably all three before I was likely to be chopped to bits--but I reminded myself that that wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. Who I was supposed to be.

            I was supposed to be optimistic Emiri Shuisen, whose optimism and bright ideas couldn’t be beaten, much less rivaled. I wasn’t supposed to question myself or struggle like this. I was supposed to be someone who had control over their life. My mother told me that I was going to be walked over when I was older and at the time, I had challenged it with quiet aggression while at the same time realizing it had been true. So, when I set out for another country...the forced optimism, the role of an unconquerable person who would never stoop to a “bully’s” level, the impression that I had something to prove, the readiness to climb in a world that didn’t know my name or my father’s--or what his name had become in a different world--it all came upon moving. That night, though, the mask was shattered. I realized while I sprinted through the streets I had begun sobbing.

            I was not in control. I was not independent. I was not ready. I was not mature. I was not any of the things I had pretended to be upon moving to this foreign country. Fire rolled in my chest, contrasting the waves in a battle for which ideology would in. The flames burned brightly within my eyes as I forced myself forward, tears and blood staining my face.

            It never mattered whether I was ready or not. I never had to be. The purpose was to prove that I could do it, ready or not. Determination shot through me, even as the adrenaline slowly began to leave my system. When the police station was within sight, my sprint had slowed to a careful limp, but I pushed forward despite my uneven, shaky breaths. Taking in as much air as I could, I was slowly able to push open the doors of the pristine front room. A man sat at the front desk, not quite paying attention to who had entered.

            “It’s pretty late,” He began, clacking away at his keyboard and still not paying attention. How frustrating. “But we’re still up. How can we help you to...day…” He trailed off as he looked up at me, eyes slowly widening. When he stopped, I allowed my eyes to wander for a brief moment. There were five officers chatting in the next hallway, not even twenty feet away. Good. This was it--I was safe.

            “There...there’s a girl after me. She killed Officer Ito, and I’m not sure wha-” I was cut off by the sick, now familiar squelch of a blade cutting through flesh. Shakily releasing the rest of the air from my lungs, the typhoons and hurricanes rage began anew. I slowly looked down to find the tip of a blade protruding through my abdomen. I tried to take in air, but my body seemed to reject it. Instead of coughing, warm liquid dripped from my lips. Time, as well as my heart, stopped. The stars vanished, only to be replaced with shadow. They abandoned me under the false lights in that hellish place, didn’t they?

            “You deserve this,” Thana cooed into my ear from behind, almost sweetly, the hand not gripping the machete holding my waist gently. “You should just die, you know. It’d make things easier for everyone. This is your fault.” Her voice was all I could hear over the shouting not because it was loud, but because it was the only thing my mind chose to hear. Her cackling filled me with a disgust and dread that I could not justly describe, but that disgust was what had kept me tethered to reality for so long. It had fueled the desire to live, if only to spite her. It was failing fast.

            The police officers from the hallway pulled Thana away, restraining her despite her screeches and protests, declaring innocence and justice. The police officer from the desk rushed to me with shaking hands, trying to look me in the eyes and say things to keep my attention--pleading for me to stay awake, that I had things to do still.

            “Damn it, kid, at least stay up so that the paperwork will be...be less...hard! I...I need your testimony! Don’t make my job difficult!” Though his tone was scolding, I knew he’d meant to be humorous. I gave a tiny chuckle, still shaking. Red filled my vision and the cool waves called me, offering to extinguish the agonizing heat of the blood covering me. The same fire that had once been determination wailed in despair as it was dissipated by the currents.

            It was late. I felt as if I were a hundred years older and tired enough to be that old. I was just...tired. So, so tired...I felt my body loosen up and the air exiting my lungs, allowing the water to claim me. The depths of deep blue were so, so kind. So inviting. So dangerous.

            In the back of my mind, I vaguely registered that Akari, Len, and Rin had arrived on the scene, now joined by a horrified Seskiel. Not that I could exactly see them--while my eyes were open, it felt more as if I looked past them. Len, in an instant, had flown at Thana in an attempt to exact some sort of revenge or some sort. Seskiel stood frozen while Akari held onto Rin, knuckles and face white. Rin was sobbing as she rushed over, pulling out of Akari’s grip to hold onto me.

            It didn’t matter in the end, did it?

            The cool, calm waves took over, spreading over my body and smoothing my eyes shut. People were screaming. Fists were flying. The world faded away.

            That day, the sea and sky blended together. It didn’t matter whether I was floating amongst the stars or the sea, I was floating above all the trouble that day had caused me. The peaceful, cool touch of the water and the buzzing warmth of the stars flitting around me, through my hair, resting against my arms or legs, creating a protective shield around me was absolutely perfect. Once again, I was nobody, floating through nothing, and enjoying the bliss of becoming a cipher.


	12. Chapter 11

            I was sick. Very, very sick. I wouldn’t understand pneumonia until I was, perhaps, nine and had a slight interest in biology. However, I did not have that interest at six years old and I was just as scared as I was sick. It felt as if I were constantly trying to move through molasses--the atmosphere had been replaced with water. Sweat beaded down my forehead, but the chill of the supposedly warm room was overwhelming. Mama sat on my bed, running fingers through my hair to coax me to sleep while humming a familiar melody. Mama sang it all the time to help me fall asleep, ever since I was a baby.

            Dad thought she was silly, her and her obsession with the artist. He often made fun of her and her chime of “I don’t think so,” mimicking a voice from a movie I was too young to know. He didn’t tease her this time as he brought in a new cup of water and helping of medicine. He said that enough time had passed that I could take more, but my six-year-old mind didn’t care. The music was helping more than the medicine at that point.

            My mother shot my father a concerned look as a fish I couldn’t name flitted passed her head. I swore her hair floating hair shifted with the action. Even Dad’s shirt, while being a button-down, seemed to sway with every passing movement of the water. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a starfish slowly began to climb up the wall towards the window, as if trying to escape towards freedom.

            I silently wished to be able to do the same before I saw what was outside of the window. Bright, brilliant light more intense than anything I’d ever seen shone through the window.

            The world outside was on fire. Within this bubble, the waves were at peace. Outside, the flames climbed higher, higher, higher, with a desperate desire. Church bells rang in my head in time with the fire ones. My six-year-old mind wondered why. I couldn’t tell her--I didn’t exist then.

            When I looked back to my bedside, Seskiel sat in a chair next to my tiny, sickly form that was glued to the bed by unbearable heat and sweat in the waves. His heads were kneaded together in front of him, his head hidden and ducked low behind him. If I didn’t know how anti-religious he was, I might have thought for a second he was praying. Maybe, regardless of his faith, he was. I never knew.

            “Wake up.” His voice was shaky, but firm. Quiet, but the loudest I’d heard in a long time. “Please, come back. I’m sorry. Wake up.” The me that saw all of this tried to reach out to him, but to no avail. I was floating above, too high to reach his quaking form. Even if I’d been able to reach him, I knew, my hands would make no difference. They’d fade through, like the ghost I was.

            Through the eyes of my six-year-old self, I saw the ghost of me around the strange man I didn’t know who was all too familiar. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug, legs almost pulled up to her chest despite looking as if instead of embracing him, she was hovering right around and over him.

            All at once, I saw through the eyes of my sick body and my spirit simultaneously, knowing everything and nothing, feeling pain and the emptiness of floating. Bubbles floated gracefully to the ceiling. In the other room, the song still played, and that was all that mattered. The familiar melody swayed my spirit back into my body and the world became one again until there were two bodies hovering. One held nothing but malice--they wanted to hurt me. They were born from the fire. They terrified me.

            The other, despite radiating promises of kindness in protection, scared me even more. As they tried to wrap me in a protective embrace, they suffocated me more and more, wrapping tighter and tighter. My sick, small body couldn’t take it. I couldn’t even cough in protest--couldn’t speak to beg for release. Slowly, I suffocated until the world went black.

 

* * *

 

            My eyes opened and I was met with the classic white walls of a hospital bed. The heart monitor beeped faithfully next to me, an I.V. attached to my arm. I was going to sit up, the realization that something was gripping my hand tightly stopped me. I turned my head, eyes slowly following the length of my arm. Seskiel sat by my side, head buried in his free arm against the hospital bed, the other hand holding mine. It was almost startling--I’d never seen him sleep before in my memory. He wasn’t a “sleep” kinda guy.

            A quick glance around the room told me that no one else was in the room. The sun shone brightly through the windows--not the fires of hell that I remembered, but the golden warmth of the late spring sun. Subconsciously, I squeezed Seskiel’s hand. I found that it was a good tether to consciousness.

            I almost jumped when Seskiel’s head flew up in shock, looking astonished with probably the most expression I’d ever see him show. I turned to fully look at him, looking surprised.

            “...Morning, man.” I croaked out, voice still rusty from such a long period of neglect. I wasn’t expecting Seskiel to fear up, his face contorting into an anguished expression. The boy dove forward, quickly wrapping his arms around me as best as he could without actually crawling into the damn hospital bed, shaking like a leaf in a storm. I gasped, recoiling a little from a sudden stinging in my abdomen. He whipped back a bit, looking surprised.

            “...Sorry. Stitches.” His voice was shaky and tears poured in a steady stream down his face. He didn’t move, perhaps scared he was going to hurt me again. With trembling hands, I reached forward and pulled him into a more gentle hug, which he returned with just as much force as the first hug, mindful of my apparent stitches this time. From the tiny gasps and sighs coming from his face, buried in the crook of my neck, he was sobbing. With everything that hit me at once, I began to do the same. He tried to curl around me as much as he could--almost like a shield--without smothering me entirely. I carefully rubbed circles into his back, waiting for him to be ready to talk again. When he was, he didn’t move away.

            “Why didn’t you call me?”

            “You were busy. I didn’t think it would get this bad. I thought I could handle it.” The guilt and shame in my voice made me wince. I didn’t want to be regretful, but the shame of the entire thing was a stabbing pain. I could’ve avoided this. I knew, deep down, all I had to do was ask for help, or even ask Texter if I was so desperate to keep it from my friends. He was also stalking me anyhow--what did it matter?

            “...You’re really stupid.” Seskiel hissed, his shaking arms wrapping around my waist tighter. I winced, burying my face as if I could hide from the truth.

            “The stupidest.” I agreed half-heartedly. We sat there in silence, a nonverbal argument occurring between us. In the end, it was resolved as quickly as it appeared. We always had a silent way of communicating like that--always quick to forgive each other, no matter what happened. Looking back, it wasn’t surprising. He was the closest thing to a brother I ever had.

            The door creaking open startled me from my reverie. My grip on Seskiel tightened, my heart picking up the pace a little. Why, I had no clue. It just felt as if the tension in the room tripled its original amount and my spine stiffened, becoming ramrod straight. Seskiel noticed my readiness to move--to pounce or escape at a moment’s notice and pulled his reddened eyes away from my shoulder to send me a confused look. He looked at where the door would be if the curtain separating my section of the room and my neighbor’s section weren’t blocking it. Familiar voices filled the room, engrossed in a quiet conversation.

            “So, that’s what I’m planning to do for that assignment. Hopefully, Ms. Sasake will go easy on Emi for her missed work-” Len froze when he walked past the curtain, seeing me cling to Seskiel like a lifeline. Rin, who looked confused at her brother’s sudden silence, followed his line of sight and her eyes widened as well.

            “Em!” Len dashed over, practically jumping onto the bed to hug me. I gasped, squirming away from his assault. “You’re awake!”

            “And you’re suffocating me! Good morning! Stop shouting!” I whisper-yelled, voice still a little hoarse. Rin walked over in a more calm manner than Len, but once she arrived at my bed she didn’t hold back in hugging me. I groaned, trying to wriggle out of the twins’ grasps before giving in.

            “So, your ‘friend’s’ awake?” A voice I never heard before asked out. I couldn’t see him (at least, I assumed it was a him from his deep voice), but I could practically hear the air quotes in his voice. It was all too familiar--in a way no one but him and myself seemed to know yet.

            “I can love my friends!” Len shouted in defense and I winced at the shout. Too early for this. A quick glance at the clock told me it was twelve in the afternoon. Yep. Still way too early. Len and Rin hesitantly parted from me, still making sure to sit close with Rin sitting across from Seskiel and Len sitting on the bed at my feet (Seskiel shot him a pointed glare, to which Len responded with a silently pointed look at the hand still intertwined with my own. Seskiel backed off). Toby, who had come in trailing after Rin, gave me a pat that I was sure was supposed to be reassuring on the calf before he sat next to Rin on the bed, wrapping an arm around her. Sighing with relief, I looked over to the edge of the curtain and raised an eyebrow, seeing two figures there.

            “You didn’t tell me she was a cutie.” The familiar tan boy addressing Len protested, hazel eyes giving me a quick once-over. Dewey, who stood next to him, gave him a scathing glare.

            “Dude. She’s injured. Maybe wait to flirt with her until she’s not come out of what might’ve been a fucking coma.” My eyes widened a bit at the comment. I hadn’t heard Dewey curse before in the short time I knew him--he’d mentioned once he had a distaste for it.. He sent me an apologetic look.

            “Sorry, Em, but he insisted on coming. Stupid brat thinks he can get his way.” Dewey shot him an unimpressed look before sitting opposite of Len on the bed. While I appreciated the gesture and that so many people wanted to be near, I had to admit that the standard hospital bed was not nearly big enough to house the four extra people attempting to crowd around it, not to mention a fifth who was strolling on over with his hands in his pockets.

            “What he  _ means _ is that I’m the new kid in school. Just moved in from Denenchofu. You should be honored to be in my presence.” He smirked, leaning against the wall behind Seskiel. The raven-haired boy, still gripping my hand, looked dead inside at the remark. It seemed he had met the new kid already. “The name’s Arrekusu Shizuka. But any friend of my darling Len’s, especially one as pretty as you, can call me Arre.” I rolled my eyes, not buying the act for a second. He always had been a goofball.

            “So, essentially, you’re Len, but more spoiled and flirty?” I tilted my head. He paused and snorted, shaking his head while laughing. I suppose he was more relieved that I was keeping up the act with him--relieved enough to relax and joke like we usually did.

            “Damn. I guess I can’t deny that. He didn’t tell me you were used to people acting like that.” He sent an amused smile my way and I returned it with a smug one.

            “Only losers who think they’re smooth, like Len,” I ignored his squawk of indignation and the beginnings of protest from Arre. “What brings you here, then?”

            “Well, it seems as if everyone in this little group wanted to go see you. I had to go see what the fuss was about and honestly, not impressed.” Though his voice sounded serious, I could spot the jest a mile away. I knew his snarky humor when I saw it but before I could retort, Dewey spoke up again.

            “She’s not here to impress you. She doesn’t need to even try and impress anyone--she’s impressive on her own.” He rolled his eyes, looking away from Arre to the heart monitor to the side, if only to avoid looking at him.

            “Yeah,” I began, trying to jest once more. “You should see the other guy.”

            “She’s in prison. Life sentence. Quickest trial I’ve ever seen.” Seskiel murmured, an angry fire burning in his eyes. I quickly patted his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He only backed down a little. Arre looked at Seskiel, surprised, and looked to me for an explanation. I took a deep breath.

            “Right. So. I should...probably explain that.”

            “Yeah,” Rin began. “You probably should. How is it that one of the most reasonable people in the group ends up in the hospital like this?” I let out an awkward chuckle, feeling Toby and Seskiel’s accusing stares dig into me a little.

            “...I...kinda knew someone was coming for me.” I admitted, looking down at my lap. “Uh...Someone tipped me off that I was being stalked and the person stalking me was going to make a move. I tried to set up some traps so I could deal with it as quickly and quietly as possible, but...it didn’t quite go so well-” I paused, eyes widening in realization as the night’s events came back to me in waves. “Officer Ito! Oh, god--is Officer Ito-”

            “I’m fine.” It seemed as if ‘speak of the devil’ were truer that day than any other. The man, still in uniform (you could notice it was different than before...the bandages on his chest probably did that) walked over carefully. “They told me not to walk around, but I’ll be damned if I can’t check up on you. Someone has to. Sorry to interrupt, but I’m curious, myself.” He raised an eyebrow. Despite having known him for such a short time, it almost felt like he was scolding me too. The officer leaned against the wall across from the bed, waiting for me to continue.

            “R-right…” I trailed off, taking a deep breath. “So, Thana...she came into my house, man, and she started spouting this weird shit. Sales or something, I don’t know, but her machete beat my impromptu camera weapon. Don’t ask. After that, I think I might’ve broken her nose? I kicked her in the face while she was distracted and I ran out of the house, and then...uh...she got Officer Ito,” I sent him an apologetic glance, trying to ignore his wince. “And then I panicked and ran into town. I kinda ran to the Diner subconsciously and Len, Rin, and Akari saw me...Akari is my coworker...and I kinda did some weird parkour to get away long enough until I got to the police station, where she promptly stabbed me without letting me finish my sentence like the rude girl she is.” I frowned at this and I noticed Arre looked more uncomfortable now--worry was thinly veiled under his expression. I pretended I didn’t see, more for his sake than my own. I tried to ignore Dewey’s dark expression, one like a man looking for revenge.

            “Damn, kid.” Ito was the first to break the silence. “Well...you did good. You ran pretty damn far for a tiny thing like you...you should be proud. I heard from my coworker--the one you almost scared to death at the desk--that your parents flew in to see you. They just left a while ago to get some groceries...apparently, they’re only going to be able to stay in town for the week. After that, it’s just you again. At their request, though, there’s going to be more officers hanging around your place. Two in one car...you also have a curfew. Be back home by ten, or we raise hell looking for you.” The teenage side of me that had an ever-present bone to pick with authority figures wanted to challenge him, but my own desires silenced me. To be honest, I didn’t even feel like I wanted to leave home anymore. I wanted to lay there, in the safe hospital, and dissolve into the air. At least then, I wouldn’t be hurt. The rational side of me shot it down, but I knew it’d be back sooner or later.

            “Do you know why she did it?” Toby growled, looking more outraged and defensive than anything. Quietly, I shook my head. “She had an intense hard-on for Len. She thought you were trying to take him, or...you were Len’s girlfriend or something.” I hadn’t realized my hands were shaking until I looked in my lap. Cotton filled my mouth and if I hadn’t been sitting, I felt as if my stomach would have plummeted to my feet. Alternatively, my heart rose into the back of my throat. I choked down the feeling and looked around for a glass of water. Thankful for whoever’s thoughtful planning ahead, I quickly reached for the glass with my free hand and threw the entire thing back in one swig. If I squinted hard enough, I reasoned, I could pretend it was alcohol. If it drowned worry as well as I heard it did, It was something I wanted then more than ever.

            “She had...like...an entire cork board with stuff.” Rin shivered, subconsciously leaning into Toby more. He tightened his hold on her. “With the red strings and thumb tacks and everything. She was trying to get closer to me to get closer to Len, and Stefan was her next target. Apparently,” She glared at Len. “She was also sending him flirty texts, ignoring how many times he said he was mostly into dudes.”

            Len ducked his head. I saw him quiver slightly and I reached over to pat his arm with the tip of my fingers--as far as I could reach given the circumstances--and he muttered a quick thanks. He still looked guilty.

            “...How long was I asleep?” I finally asked, looking serious. “It’s noon. You guys should be at school.”

            “Two days. It’s Saturday.” My face paled at Toby’s resolute statement. “Seskiel was able to handle the club and reassure them you were fine...after he stopped sobbing his eyes out the first night.” Said boy shot Toby a seething glare, which shut him up quickly. Apparently, Seskiel was feeling more self-expressive today than usual. I was most likely to blame.

            “Gotcha.” I gave a steady nod. I was about to comment further when a nurse walked in and noticed my state. Surprised that I had awoken so early, she quickly sent everyone out of the room. Apparently, the doctor wanted to talk to me, but wanted my parents to be there as well. When they got back ten minutes later, my mother rushed into the room trying not to cry while cradling me as best as she could without interfering with the wires. Dad trailed in not far behind, going to the opposite side of the bed to wrap an arm around me and Mom. While mom stroked my hair, silently choking back tears, Dad looked downright murderous. He gave the doctor a serious look, nodding once for the doctor to begin his spiel. 

            Thana’s machete apparently cut straight through my right kidney, so I’d be short one until I was either put on the donor list (extremely unlikely, as it looked like I was in the clear) or decided I would be fine with only one. Without waiting for my parents’ input, I quickly chose without. Dad tried to protest, (you’re too young to only have one kidney, the usual complaints) but I shot him a glare that shut him up. My birthday was several months away by now. Only a few months until I became a legal adult in both the United States and Japan. I could make my own decisions.

            The doctor said it would take a full month to recover entirely, and that I would have to miss classes for the next two weeks at the very least to heal up. The third I would be permitted to walk around and leave the hospital, so long as I took a temporary leave from my job and took things easy. It looked like I would be riding the train a bit longer to school until I was healed--it made me sad to think about. I missed walking with Seskiel and everyone else in the mornings.

            About twenty minutes of medical talk I didn’t care to listen to passed and Dad went up to go to the bathroom while Mom went down to get me some food and herself some coffee. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I almost didn’t hear the door quietly creak open.

            “You guys were talking a long time.” The tanned boy strolled, carefree, across the floor to sit on the bed next to me. “Sounds like life’s been interesting for you.”

            “Not as interesting as becoming one of the nation’s next top pop idols. You should thank Dad for that, by the way. Why did you want to come here?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to sit up more before wincing and ceasing the effort. Arre sent me a genuinely concerned look, though it appeared he tried to lighten the mood by appearing cocky again.

            “Visiting my beautiful cousin.” He cooed, leaning back to poke at my cheek. I grumbled and crossed my arms, sending him a pointed look. It was hard to look mad at someone when you were trying not to laugh. “Who was that American guy, by the way? He was so angry when I ‘flirted’ with you. Who does he think he is, eh?”

            “He thinks he’s my friend--and he is. Besides, you gotta stop ‘flirting’ with everyone. People will get the wrong idea...You’ve seen how some of the middle schoolers follow Len around like lost puppies. What will the younger guys think when an actual JPop idol is in their school? You aren’t doing a very good job of hiding yourself...or the fact that we’re cousins, dude.”

            “That one dude doesn’t think so! Plus...uh...I’m kinda more worried about you now?” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “That was...one hell of a ride, it sounds like.” I let out a huff of air and looked down at my lap.

            “Something like that...Why did you really come here?”

            “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was worried.” He sent me a serious look. I felt my eyes widen in surprise and finally looked up at him before he slowly began smirking. “And I’ve kinda been missing a lot of school with the whole massive star thing. It’s hard being beautiful. I figured my smart cousin who goes to a fancy private school could help me. You’re a hypocrite, you know--no one knows who you even are at school.”

            That gave me guilty pause.

            “That’s because I’m no one special.”

            “You’re full of shit. Anyone at one of your old schools always recognized your name as soon as they were old enough to realize what a good record label.” He was frowning. “At least, they better, if they know anything about me. It wasn’t like your name wasn’t unpopular in music, either. What happened to your cello? You were practically the top student in orchestra in your section…” He almost looked scolding now. I sheepishly dropped his gaze.

            “It wasn’t anything good. Just a YouTube channel for crappy covers.”

            “You say that, but forty thousand subscribers don’t lie.”

            “Thirty-nine thousand.” I corrected. The number had been going down for a while.

            “Maybe you’d keep them if you posted more than once a month.” He scolded, leaning back to lay across my legs, his hands folded behind his head to cushion them while he crossed his legs. “They’re actually starting to worry. I saw a conspiracy theory video the other day, saying you were kidnapped by ISIS or the Illuminati.”

            “Well,” I retorted, a little angry now. “I can’t do anything about that now, can I? Or for the next two weeks. I’ll probably forget by then, anyways-”

            “No.” He looked serious before breaking into a mischievous grin.

            “...’No?’ What do you mean, ‘no?’” I squinted at him, feeling my heart pick up its speed ever so slightly.  _ Accelerando _ , my mind helpfully provided.  _ Or, perhaps, Affrettando _ .

            “You need to do something for physical therapy for this type of stuff, right?” His grin was wolfish now. “There are private rooms you can reserve in this place. I’m bringing your cello and a camera tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me.” My eyes widened and I froze.

            “What will I even play?!” I demanded, trying to sit up in indignation before wincing and allowing myself to lay back down.

            “You know plenty of songs by memory. Don’t even lie. The better question is, Em, why did you stop?” I was frozen once more, lulled into a similar gentle trance to the one that I had been under in my dreams.  _ Hell and silence _ , I quietly mused.

            He waited for several minutes for an answer he’d never receive--one I only partially knew myself. He knew at that point that was the end of what I’d say and shook his head, moving in to give me a hug.

            “What was that you always say? ‘Behave yourself?’ Follow your own advice this time, Cuz.” With that he let me go and began to walk towards the door. I bid him goodbye in silence, and he understood the words just fine even without the sound. I heard the door creak open once more and waited for it to close, but it lingered open.

            “...Oh.” I heard Arre begin, his voice genuinely surprised. “...Hi…” I heard him awkwardly shuffle and I tensed up, cotton reappearing in my mouth to render me silent once more. “Uh...want to pick your jaws off the floor and come in? I know I’m supposedly hot and all, but, it’s impolite to gawk.” He paused, perhaps realizing how out-of-character he sounded. Masks ran in the family. “Unless you want to stare. In which case, there’s more than just my face to-”

            “Arre.” I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “Gig is up. Let them in and stop harassing them.” I heard him sigh and walked over to lean against the wall with the window implanted in it. Rin, Dewey, and Seskiel awkwardly shuffled into the room, all with varying levels of surprise (or, in Dewey’s case, disgust and dismay) on their faces. I crossed my arms, sending Arre a scathing look as the walls I had taken three years to build came crashing down all at once, secrets pouring out in a steady stream. Only a few remained.

            I’d never felt so exposed in my life.

            “...So. Anyone going to object that he’s my cousin?” I raised an eyebrow at the three, uncharacteristically snarky and blunt. Arre always knew how to bring out my no-nonsense, going-to-kick-your-ass-if-you-push-me side. Several moments passed in silence and Rin shut her mouth, shaking her head, probably thinking of how Len would screech in protest if he found out that Arre was into JPop. Seskiel’s expression became neutral again, realizing he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he actually was. Dewey still stared, still surprised with Arre.

            “...How the  _ hell _ is  _ he _ related to  _ you _ again?!” In the back of my head, the name of the song my mother came to me again like the name of an old friend I had long forgotten. The Rose. Mom always was a huge Bette Midler fan.


	13. Chapter 12

            I was thrown into the fire, but the water remained. Ahead of me, miles of scorched land tormented by the screeching flames. However, it didn’t hurt. Only the cool embrace of the pools I was familiar with surrounded me. Curious, I looked behind me and I froze with what I saw. My hair drifted upward, as if it were floating, but it was much  _ longer _ than I remembered. My hair was swept behind me, as if a wind were constantly throwing it over my shoulders and into the air, but it didn’t stop. Its color was not unlike that of the deep brine of the Atlantic Ocean, swirling in an entropical pattern typical of water. It formed a wall of ocean, reaching high into the red-clouded skies and at my sides beyond where I could see.

            I held an arm up to touch it, but I stopped when I saw my own limbs formed from the clear, aquamarine, crystalline waters of the Pacific Islands. The rest of my body was hidden in a loose, foamy short gown with looser short sleeves that hung around my shoulders, ever-shifting as if swayed by currents.

            As if possessed, I walked forward, dousing the mountainous flames. Buildings, in ruins, lined my paths with abandoned flaming shells of cars sat in front of them. It was as if, despite the inferno, the towers stood like obedient soldiers awaiting for the return of humanity. Upon being doused, they loosened with relief and aquatic flora swarmed them, returning color to their ashen palettes.

            In the back of my mind, I mused that they might be happy if they were alive.

            For millennia, I walked with no clear path or desired destination. In my wake, the waves brought flora and fauna characteristic of the reefs so familiar and it was nice, despite the fact I would never see it. In my head I knew if I moved my head, the waves behind me would be tossed about and would ruin my path. So, around the world I walked over, and over, and over, in search of something. For what, I wasn’t sure.

            This continued for a million lifetimes and beyond and I watched the world fall from cool, blissful pools and back into the hellish flames, only to be beckoned back to life. Over the years, this endless quest, though I wasn’t sure what it was, had grown tiresome. I didn’t know what I was doing, nor why, and I saw no results. By the time I had looped the entire globe countless times, I was beginning to recognize my own sea flora burning. For a second, I wondered if I was saving the world by dousing the flames or drowning it under the eternal waves.

            That was, until the thought struck me that I was not alone.

            I saw living proof of this when I stumbled across them.

            In the distance, all I really had seen was the colossal waves I had left in my wake. Something in me had tensed upon realizing that I had reached a full circle--that once I completed the loop, I would dissipate into the waves and never be seen again. Regardless, I trekked on. It was my purpose, after all. However, as I neared, I noticed a figure in my path.

            I had only seen their silhouette, but their appearance struck me nonetheless. They were the only non-animal, non-plant, non-building thing I had seen besides myself. When I got closer, I noticed the scorching flames coating every surface around them. In hindsight, I should’ve seen it sooner, but the figure had entranced me.

            They were a mere shadow in a roaring flame--a blackened, burned shape with flaring white pits in place of their eyes, making them look like a two-beaconed searchlight. I neared anyway despite the strange look they gave me and their silence. When we met, they were surrounded apart from the strip of land that was the fire and miasma of heat they emitted, just as I emitted water. We stood, perhaps, three feet apart. I tried not to recoil when they took a step towards me. Then another. Another.

            We were inches apart.

            Their hand began to move, reaching towards me.They cupped my face in their scorched palm in a curious, nervous, and loving way. It was a burn that reminded me of the foreign memory of home in the winters. I leaned into the touch, cupping their hand with my own as the figure moved to put their free hand on my waist and pull me closer into a hug. It burned.

            I never felt more comforted and terrified in my life, whatever it was at this point. The figure, holding me close, winced. I would’ve thought it was in sympathy, if it weren’t for one thing. In my millennia in the world, I had long grown used to hearing the hiss of fire being put out. The sound was intensified--characteristic of the obvious clash. I wanted to let go, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let this person go--and they wouldn’t let me. Clouds billowed around us, water quickly evaporating to air and fire steadily being extinguished. Despite the pain, neither of us let go...only held tighter.

            Eventually, our respective walls collapsed and our figures steamed away, leaving the world to start anew. Hopefully, we rationalized from the clouds above, this time things would be better.

 

* * *

 

            Never in my life had I wanted to go back to sleep more. The call of the waves and the enticing flames called to me from beyond my consciousness and I wanted to leave the room my cousin reserved while his back was still turned. True to his word, he brought my cello the next day. What he didn’t mention was that we weren’t doing a cover--we would be writing a song together.

            “It doesn’t have to be good,” He coaxed when I hid my head under the covers. “Just something to get your channel active again. Though, with me in it, you know it’s going to be good.” Somehow, he and everyone else had it in their minds that I was “emotionally damaged” and “needed extra of everything to recover.” The extra, I suppose he thought, included hobbies. He, Rin, and Seskiel (who, now, were all in on my secret) had encouraged me to find something to do other than sleep for days on end (despite popular belief, I was more than happy doing that, thank you very much). They thought ripping apart the months of effort I put into ignoring the channel’s existence would help “cope” with what I was feeling.

            They didn’t know I wasn’t feeling anything. Half of the time, it felt as if the waves had long rolled in and carried me on its surface. Other than that, I was blank. I couldn’t think--there was nothing to think. What was there to think?

            These were things I pondered in annoyance and boredom as I shifted uncomfortably while Arre set up the video. We’d written the music the day before, Sunday, and he had come after school expecting the writing to have been done. I’d hummed the melody as I wrote, and by the time he came, I knew it by heart. He’d written lyrics to go with the overall tone and feel of the song, choosing a love song about hope and progress (I had bet that if that wasn’t some sort of agenda or fanservice, Seskiel would owe me two thousand yen. He gladly declined, saying he believed me) and claimed to know what he was doing and that practice wouldn’t be necessary.

            I forced him to go through the video several times already. If he was going to bring multiple cameras and bring his music video editor into this afterward, it was going to be good, damn it.

            When he was finally ready, I sat there sitting uncomfortably in my hospital gown and an IV still sticking out of my arm. After all, it had only been four days since I was impaled. My nurse disapproved immensely, but was standing by in case I needed her at any moment. Arre told me the hospital gear would add to the message of the song.

            All cameras were finally rolling and set up. He turned to me, grinning.

            “Ready, cuz?” He stood in front of me, mindful of my cello, and grabbed my shoulders. I was sure Seskiel and Rin were outside, judging by the tiny feminine whispers I heard at the door. I was sure they were watching through the window of the door, too. I carefully nodded. He copied my action, strolling to the opposite end of the room where cameras were supposed to be watching him dance and sing. I readied my bow and watched as my hands shook violently.

            I stared in wonder and confusion. That had never happened before. My heart beat like a drum in my own ears. I felt my chest, my fingers, everything thrum in time with my heart. The feeling was strange, but I quickly cut it off. It didn’t matter, I told myself. Use it as a metronome. So, with the camera pointing at me just below my face to obscure my identity (and only showing my back and dark hair from Arre’s side), I did just that.

            I didn’t wait for his cue to begin. I knew he was psyching himself up in his head, but I had the strange sense of urgency that told me if I didn’t begin then, I might never begin again. My bow slid across the strings hovering over the neck of the instrument, and sound emerged from its body as my fingers danced just above the bridge. The steady thrum of the melody, accompanied by Arre’s soft footsteps behind me allowed me to drift back into the familiar rhythmic place that I always drifted to when playing--a place where only my cello and I existed.

            However, that place had been tainted with the vision of  _ her eyes _ . I recognized them now, falling into that place. Her eyes burning while watching me play. She had always been watching, hadn’t she? My breathing became labored, but mindful of the performance, I gasped and sputtered in silence. My head filled with static and the bow roughly sawed across the bridge, letting out a screech that, if you squinted, almost sounded like it belonged there. I knew Arre was turning around already to ask what was wrong, but I continued on. He whirled behind me to pretend as if he had intended his winces and concern. The song continued, more desperate and frenzied than before.

            She was always watching, wasn’t she? I’d thought. Always watching. Learning my routine. Planning in the dark what she’d do. She knew all along, and I realized then so had I, even if I didn’t realize the intensity of her attack, I always knew. It was my fault I was like this. It was my fault I had one less kidney and my fault that I had hurt others around me in my absence and it was my fault that the image of some ridiculously cringy girl haunted my mind in the tiniest ways.

            The entire thing was ridiculously funny. I felt like I could smile--laugh, even. Laugh until the laughter turned to tears. Sob the entire day and hide under the covers of my secure hospital bed, never to emerge. To become one with the shadows and dissipate.

            That was what I had been doing before I reminded myself I had a song to write, anyways. Waiting, staring at the material of the blanket covering me in the subtle hopes that the (admittedly, almost nonexistent) lack of air would suffocate me. It was better to drown in misery than drown in fear, I’d reasoned.

            Now, the strings screeched in an angrily beautiful monody, one that was only emphasized by my trembling frame. One final saw across the strings, and the song was over. Arre held his pose faithfully behind me and I cracked, wrapping my arms around my cello and bringing my face down, as if I could curl into a ball tight enough around the instrument that it would protect me somehow. My hair fell into my face, obscuring it from the camera. Silence.

            “...Thank you for watching.” I began, not knowing what I was doing, really. It felt appropriate, despite the lack of outros in my previous videos. My voice shook with uncertainty and a panic that I had never really felt before in my life. It sounded foreign. I wanted it to go away, so I pressed on in the hopes it’d fade from my voice.

            “It has been...a very trying month. I have not updated you all and I apologize. Everything is just...a...a bit too much.” Tears streamed down my face before I realized I had even teared up at all. “Hopefully things will get back on track. I just can’t right now. Everything fell apart, and I’m only just now piecing it together. I had the pieces, I thought, and the puzzle was clear, but nothing seems to fit right anymore.” I admitted through huffs and choked sobs. “I want to try and update more from now on. But...I cannot promise you anything. I can promise nothing by now.” By then, I was violently sobbing. The shade behind my eyelids was the visualization of those wretched coal-black irises consuming my psyche.

            I didn’t speak for a while afterward. I heard Arre’s footsteps and felt his arms wrap around me from the side. In the back of my mind, an immense fear of contact wanted to burst from my chest and it terrified me. I wasn’t ready to face it, so I released my cello to let it gently sit on the floor before returning my cousin’s hug.

            “...Something’s not right, Arre.” I whispered quietly between quiet shuttering sobs. “This doesn’t happen to me. Something’s not right, and it’s my fault-”

            “Don’t you fucking dare, Emiri Shuisen.” He hissed quietly and hugged me tighter. He might’ve been shaking--although, that might’ve been my own projection. I didn’t speak after that, slowly calming myself down. Despite the image of dead, shark-like eyes in the back of my mind, I’d reached a temporary lull in the storm. The rain let up a little.

 

            A two days later, after everything had been said and done and I walked out of that little white room appearing no worse than when I had entered, Arre’s music video editor sent back the video. He laid next to me on the hospital bed with his personal laptop plugged into the wall. The day before, where only Seskiel visited for a few minutes before leaving, had been much more peaceful.

            I stared at the ceiling for hours, unmoving, feeling nothing particularly striking in general. It was as if a dam broke yesterday that I didn’t even know existed and that now, after everything was said and done, the bursting riptide had settled evenly over the land and now sat dormant until the earth completely absorbed it. My nails had dug into my palms several times until red marks were left there to assure that I was alive still. The sting brought me temporarily back to reality from the clouds above. I’d had the same dream for most of the time I spent in the hospital, sleeping longer each time to stay in those flames and currents.

            But when people visited, I tried to make sure that I wasn’t in that daze. Not that I had to worry about it much--my friends had school and my parents felt as if they were being forced to go back home due to work and Grandpa’s attitude (“She chose to leave home and put herself in danger, this is her fault! You come back here right now, the both of you. We have the gig of a lifetime and I will not miss it because your daughter decided to go play hero.” There was truth in that statement that left a stinging sensation that shook me to my core). The doctors never visited because they never thought anything was wrong and my nurse only really came in to make sure I took care of myself and wasn’t constantly laying in bed to rot (only when she wasn’t looking). Ito visited often with his work buddy, the officer who was at the desk (who I would later learn was named Tanaka) and they were fairly good company when they visited. Eventually, they would become close friends of mine--like older brothers, as they were both young enough to be that.

            When Arre brought in his laptop, there was a dreadful reminder that life existed outside of that blank little room with a large window and that I couldn’t just watch it from my bubble. Regardless, though, I knew that I would need to get through whatever was happening to me. There was nothing wrong with me--nothing that I hadn’t felt before (a blatant lie, but a lie that kept me grounded to the earth).

            The song was beautiful and the video was of equal quality. Even with the aggressive sawing of the strings, it was elegant only in the way that intensely emotional pieces could be. When the video finished, Arre looked at me expectantly and I shot him a half-heartedly proud smile. It...wasn’t bad, admittedly. Even my breakdown had been edited to look artistically tragic. Since Arre and his editor had also published the video before bringing it to me, I was relieved to think that other people thought so as well. They thought it was an elaborate act, except when they reached the end. Well-wishes were probably filling my inbox.

            I didn’t want any of it.

            I wanted to lie on the ground and wait until I was buried. I was empty anyhow, so staying above wasn’t doing me much good.

            We sat there for a short amount of time, scrolling through the comment section with people asking how I’d gotten Arre to do a song with me or what had happened to make me react like that. I had the courage to comment on a few of them, telling them I’d make a video soon. When comments began rolling in with more questions or attention-seeking remarks (some asking for a face reveal, which I frowned at and deleted), we scrolled away and he helped me begin an outline for the next video, which would be my first video that wasn’t just music.

            I’d never been the type of person to make excuses as to why I did or didn’t do something. Excuses were a waste of breath.

            In the midst of our planning, the door to the room slammed open. I heard my neighbor startle awake behind her curtain, but remain silent afterward. She’d probably put on her noise-canceling headphones, the lucky woman. Len barreled into the room, sending Arre a pointed glare. 

            “What did you do?” He demanded, walking over quickly. Arre froze, sending Len an unimpressed look. I was stopped--they seemed like good friends when they first met, but now there was an unspoken hostility between the two. I froze, shivering a little. The silence was broken when I sneezed into my elbow.

            “Bless yo-”

            “I asked, what did you do? And bless you.” Len nodded before glaring once more.

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The brunette said smoothly, setting the laptop aside and crossing his arms.

            “The video! Don’t think Rin didn’t tell me about the whole YouTube thing. I found the channel and watched it--you shouldn’t have forced her to do stuff so early! She’s still healing.”

            “She chose to do it. She could’ve said no or stopped me at any time and I would’ve understood.”

            “Don’t play dumb like that! You know how much of a pushover she is. She has a hard time telling anyone no.”

            “I think I know my own cousin.” Arre’s glare was now scathing and I felt my heart pound against my ears. I felt as if I was suffocating and I had no idea why.

            “I-It’s ok--just, please, calm down, nothing’s wrong—”

            “Nothing’s wrong?! You had a panic attack! On camera! And he posted it!”

            “She said she didn’t care if we posted it or not, that it was at my discretion! My discretion is that her subscribers deserve to know what’s going on instead of her just dropping off of the face of the earth!”

            “He--I...yeah, you’re both right, just—”

            “Are you even listening to this, Em?!” Len yelled, waving his hand in frustration. Arre stood now, his hazel eyes looking more steel grey than before.

            If Arre returned a remark, I didn’t hear it. The raised voices, the motions--it was all blurry in my mind. The room began to tilt and I felt my feet touch the ground. I wanted out. I wanted out so badly, everything was screaming and nothing was ok. A tether held me back from leaving the room--a strange, white-tinted clear tube protruding from my arm. Annoying. I pulled it out, wincing from the pain. Neither Len nor Arre paid attention over their own yelling.

            Ignoring the blood on my arm, I ran as quickly and quietly as I could from the room without my abdomen clenching in pain. The yelling seemed to stop, if only for a second. As soon as I rounded a corner, slowing my pace in relief to be away, it started up again. This time, it was my name. My heart clenched in my throat and I began booking it again. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help the subtle thought that she was after me again. That she was just behind me, hiding behind a corner and determined to not miss my throat like she had several times that night. I ran until I reached a part of the hospital that was quieter and empty, not stopping when a nurse recognized me and tried to stop me. Though I recall seeing a “Maternity Ward” sign, my memories were becoming increasingly fuzzier. I hid underneath a hollowed out underside of a staircase, just next to the railing that stopped me from plummeting over the side of the previous one.

            I barely noticed that I was bawling. Vaguely recognizing the need to hide, I stifled the sobs that would normally send screams through someone into tiny gasps and breaths that you had to be listening for to hear. Tears poured in a steady stream and, slowly but surely, the feeling of pain registered in my arm and the world clarified, the blurring sensation fading away along with the adrenaline. I finally realized my arm was bleeding and cursed lightly, licking the side of my finger to quickly brush it over the pinprick wound. A trail of the liquid had poured down my arm. I clutched at my arm, trying to push the memory of blood pouring down my face and blood running over my abdomen out of my mind. The taste of iron was suffocating.

            I sat there in silence for what felt like hours, staring out of the window that the stairs sat against. Across from me sat room 442. A slight shiver went through me at its implications, as cliche as it may have been. The numbers stared at me, burning into my soul, so I looked out of the window to send the thoughts away.

 

            They found me there thirty minutes later and scolded me, sending me back to my room before cleaning my arm and replacing the IV that I’d apparently ruined. I didn’t hear from Len or Arre the rest of the week (I’d heard from Rin that Len said that the nurses didn’t want to let him or Arre near my room after their outbursts).

            That Friday, Seskiel walked me home alongside Rin and Toby. It’d occurred to me that Stefan hadn’t visited me once in those weeks. He never really spoke to me again afterward, for reasons I wasn’t sure. I was too tired to reach out, too tired to do anything. After my friends left my home that day, I laid in bed for hours on end, staring at the ceiling.

            I’d only gotten up a few times for water or using the restroom and during one of my trips, something caught me cold. Two bright blue eyes staring at me from outside my window, the rest of their face obscured by shade. I let out a screech and ran to my copier, ripping the paper from the dispenser and grabbing as much duct tape as I could carry, deliberately taping over every single window in the house and putting a chair to the front door before resting in my bed once more and blankly staring at the ceiling.

            The thought that I might be going insane only then occurred to me when I looked out the same window before covering it to see the eyes had vanished.

            However, that didn’t matter, did it?

            The inferno called, and the only person who remotely understood this laid there.


	14. Chapter 13

            I sat at the bottom of the sea, where no light could reach me. In the back of my mind, I began to vaguely yearn for a memory of warm arms that held me. In the back of my mind, those thoughts diminished as my memory erased itself. It always seemed to do so upon awakening from a dream, but I found myself fortunate enough, being able to remember those spotlight eyes several days after they vanished from my world. The memory of them was enough to hold them close, for the time, but it seemed as if with every passing second on the bottom of the sea floor, they dissipated like smoke in the air. Laying at the bottom of the floor, I itched for something. I was unsure of what that something was.

            Lights shone in the darkness--indescribable amorphous orbs shifting and gleaming in the blackened sea. Jellyfish, squid, even a tomopteris. The stars and skies above shifted as the galaxies of sea life shifted and changed for an eternity above.

            After centuries of monitoring the shifting tides of the heavens, long ago having become one, being away from the one that I love and fear--that stranger who I’d forgotten long ago--and buried beneath the sea depths, blissfully oblivious to the raging volcanic hell storms above, something unfamiliar came to life before me.

            A metallic bubble, filled with creatures only vaguely familiar to me in shape alone. They huffed and puffed, breathing and exhaling gas in rhythmic fashions, more intensely than my marine neighbors. The bubble neared, almost cautious of my nonmoving form. I only stared--my job was to watch the cosmos of swirling aqua. Not to acknowledge whatever beings visited in the bubble. I sat and watched the sky. I was numb. Eventually, even though I was pulled from the depths and put into a tank--many of the same creatures from the bubble passed me by in my time there--none of anything seemed to matter and it didn’t matter whether I was at the bottom of the depths of my despair or in a thick-walled glass cage. It seemed like I was missing something, despite the general atmosphere had not changed--it was still dark and there were glowing creatures that floated around me in a constant sway--my galaxy of rest.

            These consistent dreams were also new, I realized on some level of consciousness in that alternate world. Consistent dream series had never been a thing in my mind before.

            Regardless, all I could do was lay there, my hands outstretched as if the action alone would bring whatever was missing from the heavens and back into my embrace. The creatures outside never stopped their ogling...not really. Always with the bright flashes just outside that thick layer of glass. They didn’t care what I was--who I was. I was a display. That, at least, I knew. I couldn’t bring myself to care. On a pane outside, images told the story about vicious fires outside of my plane of existence--in islands supposedly distant (but not distant enough for the worry to not affect the creatures) and several others. Like a path. Even I could tell, despite the language of these creatures and its foreignity to me (such a strange language--one that simultaneously made complete and no sense).

            So, that cycle repeated for many days with no reprieve or sign of discourse except for the occasional mess or incident occurring outside of my glass bubble. Not that it ever really affected me or my marine companions--many of whom had the same circumstances as myself. Day in and day out, we were our own company.

            Except, one day, when the cycle broke.

            The day had begun as normal--but at the time that I had eventually begun to recognize as “noon,” all hell broke loose. Those creatures--the awful and wonderful things that they were--ran through the doors, making incoherent screeching sounds. They ran about, like a frenzy of fish attempting to escape slaughter. Looking over to the doors and windows not far, I realized they were.

            The buildings outside were encased in fire. Rippling, crackling magma flooded the streets and engulfed everything in its path. Not long after the several mercifully left from the fire burst in, a fiery figure burst in after them, enraged. A figure like me. A figure I understood, from a lifetime I could no longer remember. I stared in wonder, eyes wide as the figure’s blazing eyes swept over the many tanks in rage, roaring fiercely.

            They stopped and stood still when their eyes landed on me. The only discernible features on their face were the brilliant pearlescent embers of their eyes. Slowly, they walked forward, rage almost entirely forgotten. Fear. Overwhelming affection. Both of these emotions were on our face--fear for what we were to become, of what the other might do to us. Affection, for the one being that could possibly understand our existence. Their hands gently touched the glass and I slowly gravitated myself towards the smooth, transparent surface, apathetic trance finally broken. The glass turned molten under their caress. The glass around it cracked, the water exploded from my bubble, and steam filled the air. Screeching. A warm, tight, desperate embrace.

            The world went dark.

 

* * *

 

 

            Dreams had not left me, and I had begun to miss the days when dreams didn’t come easy. Looking at the clock on the nightstand built into the foreign bed, I groaned into my pillow when the bright red light told me it was three in the morning. I knew sleep would not come to me for the rest of the day, so I sat up and glared at the room. It was, quite frankly, a nice room. Arre insisted that I have it and allowed me to bring some luxuries from home--to even buy some new furniture if I liked (I did not buy as many pieces of furniture as I bought pots and plant seeds, but Arre respected my desires regardless of the judging glances he sent towards the blooms).

            After arriving at the hospital, things were a bit easier. I didn’t sleep, which was fine, but I laid in bed and relaxed, just as my doctor told me to. I relaxed and relaxed until my phone’s battery died from receiving so many worried calls. I laid in my bed, memorizing the imperfections in the ceilings or walls or pieces of furniture around me. It was better than facing the world--and the light, filtered by a hundred papers, was relaxing and cast a relieving light about the room.

            My friends were not having it. I wanted to pretend I didn’t understand their vivid hatred of what the weekend had become, but I knew all too clear that they were worried. That fact alone made me want to stay in bed longer--maybe find a nice hole in the backyard to bury myself in. The cool depths were tempting. Before I could act on any of the lethargic thoughts that relaxation had brought, though, Seskiel broke into my home. When I first heard the window’s lock break and slide open, the world had slowed down and I found that I couldn’t breathe. When he found me, I sat in my closet, heaving for breath, sobbing hysterically.

            He had sat down in the closet with me, pulling me close in a hug and trying to calm me down. Later, Arre would come in to demand that I stay at his house until everything blew over. He said that I needed family and friends to “get past what I was feeling.” I didn’t understand, because I didn’t feel anything at all unless I was surprised or memories of machetes came back to me. At least, I wanted to not understand. I wanted to pretend that I was fine, that nothing long-lasting had happened that night. ‘God, a month ago,’ I had thought. ‘Why don’t you get over yourself? You’re alive, aren’t you? Get a grip and get over yourself. You’re fine.’

            Regardless, the transition from my cabin on the edge of town to Arre’s small homely Americanized mansion went smoothly and life went on. I spent the rest of the weekend at his house, forcing myself to get up to at least eat (though, I could only force myself to eat minimal amounts) and take care of the plants I had “adopted.” Upon moving, Arre insisted to buy whatever I would need to move from my home to his. I took this to mean plants and brought several...tens of them. They were...reassuring, in a way that most people couldn’t be. They were a consistent reason to get up every morning and do something other than stare at the wall--a mindless work that allowed me to drift in and out of direct consciousness. Plants slowly became better than people. Plants didn’t expect you to function like a human being. Plants allowed you to be a mindless zombie, as long as you took care of them. The rest of the weekend was spent researching how to care for the various plants I’d gathered and actually taking care of them.

            Everyone was impressed by how fast I was moving on. I didn’t mind--if they wanted to call a distraction progress, I wasn’t going to rain on their parade and shatter the illusion of security.

            Of course, Monday comes around whether you’ve lost a kidney via machete attack or not. Monday rolls around, and people expect you to act like you’re back to normal, whatever the hell normal is, as soon as it does roll around. That morning, I walked to school with Arre, Seskiel, Rin, and Len (I decided to ignore the pointed glares and slight remarks Len and Arre made at each other). It was like nothing had deviated from months ago, only that Stefan had swapped places with Arre.

            (The reminder that Stefan existed had brought back a torrent of thoughts that I couldn’t hold back over the weekend--one of the many things I’d thought through over the weekend. Later on, I would hear rumors that he moved back to Russia for his championship games. Later on, when I gathered the nerve to call him again, he had confirmed. We never really spoke much again afterward. Not for a long, long time. It hurts to think about. Even now.)

            Apparently, losing a kidney does not make you exempt from being ridiculed by the people who regularly torment you, either. I supposed that they might’ve been trying to make up for lost time. As I was cornered in the oh-so-familiar hallway that morning, I tried to pretend that the consistency was reassuring. I failed.

            I hit the wall with a _thump_ and stared up at the girls blankly. The world slowly faded into the background as time seemed to slow down. There was no real emotion--just the racing-heart urges to get away from them.

            However, your regularly scheduled programming was interrupted by a sudden shout. A small group of three boys stood opposite the five girls. What they were shouting, I couldn’t hear. I could only vaguely make out and recognize their uniforms in the midst of what I now recognize as a panic attack.

            The cuffs of their suit jackets, ones that belonged to our school’s uniform, was scuffed. Their shirts were unbuttoned to reveal the graphic tees they wore under the uniform. Their hair was bleached or dyed in various hues. They all carried long, blunt-force-trauma weapons that they kept hidden in their bags.

            One might call these “the bad boys” of the school. “Delinquents.” I preferred to call them “the boys” because that was all they were--boys who decided to break the rules and act out of line, for one tragic-backstory-induced reason or another. However, there was another girl behind the boys. One I couldn’t quite recognize in my panicked haze. The girls were screeching back at them. Something about _hafu not deserving the room to speak. Go back to Africa. Half-breed deserves this_. The world came slowly back into focus as one of the girls stole one of the weapons from the boys, despite none of them having made a move already. A small scuffle later, and the five girls had the three boys pinned. As the world came back into focus, something snapped in me. A girl raised a bat at the boys and I felt myself lurching forward before I had the time to speak.

I ripped the bat from her hands and as she whirled around in shock, I landed a punch on her nose. A loud crunch filled the hallway and she stepped back with a crooked nose, tears in her eyes. I threw the bat aside and another girl came at me to stop me from doing anything else. As she reached for my hair, I ducked to the side and elbowed her in the face. As she tumbled behind me, I slammed a flat hand onto her back and pushed her to the floor. Using the momentum from that, I shifted on my non-supporting foot to kick the next girl in the face. A girl, who’d tried to back the third up, got caught in the crossfire and the third girl knocked into her, knocking her down. Huffing, I turned to give the last girl remaining a narrow-eyed glare.

            Pain was flaring in my abdomen. I pushed it down.

            “... _Hafu_ or not, I am a human being and your peer.” I walked up to her and grabbed her collar, pulling it down so she met my eyes. “I will be treated like one. You and your friends will stop treating others poorly like this, you will stop dodging cleaning time to gossip in the bathroom, and you will all stop tormenting everyone around you.” The girl was shaking under my hands, and deep in my chest pangs of regret began digging into me. She shakily nodded, face completely pale. “Good. Now, help me get these girls to the nurse.” I knew how out-of-character this was for me. I had to apologize somehow. The three boys stood not far, astonished. “You guys, too. Everyone grab a girl.”

            I grabbed onto the girl whose nose I’d broken. She was crying now, and I winced in sympathy. Now that the world had stopped spinning, distaste filled me.

            “Y-You’re a fucking _freak_ , you know that, right?” She tried to pull away and I held her in place.

            “Yeah. I know. Focus on getting the blood. I’ll lead the way.”

            “Why should we go _anywhere_ with-”

            “After two years of beating the shit out of her, I think she deserves a little credit.” A new, familiar voice spoke up. My head whipped towards the sound and my eyes widened. Standing amongst the boys, Himari stood in all her proud glory. My heart did a strange loop-de-loop in my chest.

            “...Mari?” I asked, looking hesitant. The girls who were conscious enough to see her looked surprised--then their eyes narrowed in disgust when they realized that this was a betrayal.

            “She came to get us.” One of the boys spoke up. I believe, if memory served right, his name was Yuuto Hayashi. “Said you might need a little help. We aren’t very...fond...of this type of behavior.” He narrowed his eyes pointedly at the girls. I felt as if the statement came from a place of experience. “We may be intimidating, but we just want to be left alone. We don’t torment people.” I was snapped out of my shock from this. I nodded, about to say something, but was interrupted by another boy.

            “You’re a tiny thing, ain’tcha?” He raised an eyebrow. He was just shorter than Seskiel, if I had to estimate. Touma Mori, a boy in my grade who I’d never really talked to. “Where’d you learn to move like that? What’s your name?” He picked up the girl I’d kicked in the face. She was out cold.

            “I’m not tiny--I’m just below average.” I sent him a withering look. “I just know. My name is Emiri Shuisen.”

            “President of the Occult Club. You just got stabbed two weeks ago.” The third boy, Itsuki Koizumi, noted. He held onto the girl I’d pushed to the floor. The girl that remained unscathed lead her remaining friend--the one who’d only gotten caught in the crossfire.

            “Wow. I wonder how you knew.” I deadpanned, sending him a blank stare that bordered on a glare.

            “...That name is familiar.” Mori muttered, sending me a glance as he helped the girl next to him downstairs. Himari was walking next to me--surprisingly close. I sent her a questioning glance and I knew she had to not be feeling well. Her face was red and she looked uncomfortable. “Did you have a big brother that went here?”

            “My father went here. Kazuo Shuisen, like ‘first in excellence…’ though, that was a while back.” I noticed that he’d stopped walking, eyes wide at me.

            “No way...Like, Kazuo ‘White Dragon’ Shuisen?” I paused, looking back at the boy, confused.

            “What are you, his high school yearbook? No one’s called Dad ‘White Dragon’ in...nineteen years?” I noticed the rest of the boys had stopped walking to gape at me. “...What? Wait...how do you even..?” I noticed even Himari sent me a scandalized look.

            “The White Dragon is famous here!” Mori shouted. If it was uncharacteristic of him, no one took note of it. Apparently, my dad’s high school career was more fascinating. “He--he was the one who _established_ our group...how can you say that so nonchalantly?!” I shrunk back a bit and shrugged, continuing to walk.

            “I mean...that was kind of a really long time ago. He doesn’t do crazy stuff anymore, though...sometimes, people in America ask if he was ever involved with the Yakuza. Speaking of--the answer is no. That’s just...kind of offensive.” I frowned. “Besides, he’s a successful businessman now and has come a long way from where he started.”

            “What’s better than practically running your own gang?” Hayashi questioned, accusation written on his face. I rolled my eyes.

            “Maybe owning your own record label? Ever heard of Atua Fafine Records?” Silence filled the hall.

            “...That’s...the label that Arre Shizuka is on.” I was beginning to think Koizumi was just Captain Obvious in disguise. Maybe Captain Hindsight as well.

            “Yeah.” In the back of my mind, my patience was dwindling. I felt no more need to keep up the facade I put up so often. “He’s my cousin. Dad helped him get on the label at all. He wanted to help him and his sister out, so he got him into music.” I explained, opening the doors to the infirmary. The nurse cried out, stopping anyone from asking any more questions while she sat the girls down.

            After all was said and done, I had lunch detention for a week partnered with a new gash on my forehead when one of the girls slammed me into a wall (in the chaos and panic, I didn’t even recognize that I was bleeding) and the girls were suspended for two weeks for bullying and continued harassment. The boys seemed to be extremely proud of themselves for this revelation. It looked as if the officials wanted to prosecute them, but lacked the evidence to do so. After all--the security footage only showed the boys helping a bullied student. The entire time, Himari sat close to me, eyes alert. Every time a fallacy arose in a faculty member’s points, she quickly pointed it out and squashed it. I couldn’t help but stare. She looked like a lawyer. I forced myself to look away when her eyes caught mine. I noticed she had gotten new contacts--teal with golden halos around her pupil. The false teal orbs bore into me and I slowly looked back at her. We were sitting outside of the principal's office, the boys sitting across from them and murmuring excitedly amongst themselves, trying to decide whether I should be called “Mizuchi” (A water-dragon spirit who was, apparently, bad ass) or “Ka Riu” (Notably one of the smaller dragons in Japanese mythology...I sent them a glare for this...who was rumored to be made of fire and act fiercely in battle. One of the dragon kings).

            It took all my willpower not to grin when they picked Mizuchi, despite my own insistence that they don’t give me a name. Himari, on the other hand, was downright smirking. As they debated how they were going to herald the story of how a celebrity arose from their group and how his daughter masqueraded in the school incognito (again, insistence to cease didn’t seem to faze them) I turned to Himari and frowned.

            “...I thought you hated me.” She froze, eyes widening like she remembered her place. The smile on her face vanished. It was a long time before she spoke again.

            “We need to talk about that, sometime.” She looked down at my hand and cringed. At first, I was confused as to why. Then, the memory hit me. I looked down at the ground. The boys across from us were suspiciously quieter than before.

            “...I do hate you, honest.” She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. “You’re incredibly irritating, you know. Who gave you the right to be the way you are?” My expression of disdain must’ve pressed her to explain herself better. “I mean...And to look like that? It’s honestly..” I was about to object, to stand and yell at her. “Unfair, you know.” I paused, feeling all sense of reality slip away for several seconds. “You’re so small…” If I weren’t so confused, I’d yell at her. “I want to make sure you’re safe. It feels...weird. I have the compulsive need to make sure that you’re ok. At least when I was with them, I could make sure it didn’t go too far. Looks like leaving that group might’ve been a mistake, but...I like talking to you better.”

            “...Until now.” I reminded her. The room felt considerably warmer than it had been seconds ago.

            “To be fair…” She trailed off. “That...all of that...you don’t really deserve it. Look--I’m...having issues that I’m trying to work through, alright?” Her eyes, despite being no longer crystalline blue, were still just as piercing, if not more so. “...I do want to be friends with you.” She said decidedly. More to herself than me. “Just be patient with me.”

            I blinked a few times and tilted my head. I was so confused...nothing about what she said made sense. Seeing my confused expression, she began to stutter and her face went bright red in embarrassment.

            “L-Look, forget it, alright? Just know that if you’re going to be my friend, you have to stop being bullied. It will totally ruin my reputation. So don’t cramp my style and make sure those girls...everyone, really, backs off, ok?” She gave me a stern sneer and I scooted away ever so slightly.

            “Sure, man. Not like I asked to be picked on.” She was about to retort, but footsteps coming from down the hall stopped her. Len, Arre, Rin, and Seskiel made their way over. Seskiel had dark storms brewing in his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. Len was swaying his hips in an attempt to look intimidating. If I knew he wasn’t a scaredy cat, I’d think he was ready to throw down. Arre trailed after the two, next to Rin, smirking with pride while Rin looked genuinely concerned.

            “Please tell me you punched someone’s face in.” Arre grinned deviously, leaning down to get in my face.

            “I did, in fact, someone’s face in. Broke a girl’s nose. I pushed another one over, then kicked another one in the face. That one knocked into another girl and made her tumble over. The last one helped me carry the other girls to the nurse’s office.” I deadpanned and Arre let out a cheer, falling into the seat next to me to throw his arms around me. I made fake gagging noises, trying to push him away.

            “That’s my cousin! So badass! Slay them, queen!” I rolled my eyes and got him off of me enough that he was only leaning against me instead.

            “Did you help?” Len was giving Himari a strangely...knowing look, which she returned with a scowl the size of his ego. I was just glad that Len had dropped the glare. I beckoned Seskiel over when he didn’t drop his. He sat in front of me, between his legs with an infuriated huff. I began running my hands through his hair, playing with it. Himari sent Seskiel a look I couldn’t quite decipher before speaking.

            “Yeah. I mean--I think I did?” She looked at me for confirmation, sighing when I nodded. “I tried to get the delinquents.” They cast a glare over at her for the name. “I figured I’d need more help if I wanted them to stop. I’m glad we got there when we did.” The sent me a look. “You looked...weird. Like you were sleepwalking.” When eyes turned to me, all I could do was simply shrug as an answer.

            “Speaking of.” Rin began, frowning. “...You never told us this was happening.” The shame almost gave me memories of Thana it was so sharp. “How long has this been going on?”

            “...” I remained silent, trying to focus on braiding Seskiel’s long-but-still-too-short hair. When he turned around with harsh eyes to demand an answer, I dropped the locks of hair to stare at the tiles.

            “...Three years now.” Thana answered for me and I shot her a shocked glance.

            “How do you know?” Rin sent her a confused glance.

            “...I used to be one of the bullies.” Seskiel’s eyes flew open in rage and stood up, a fist raised behind him. I pushed Arre off of me softly to stand on the chair and grab his fist. He was shaking with silent rage and I quickly pulled him into a hug, making quiet shushing sounds. However, I didn’t expect Rin to do anything. Rin was silent before walking over and firmly punching Himari’s arm. She winced and leaned away from her, towards my feet.

            “...I probably deserved that.”

            The lunch bell rang and the principal left his office, ignoring the strange position we were in to dismiss us all and shepherd all nine of us back to our respective classes.

            I couldn’t ignore the judging stares as we passed. I almost froze when I swore I saw the same bright blue eyes from the treeline in my yard in that sea of people.


	15. Chapter 14

            I loved someone once. That is what I remembered. They were kind and patient, with a beautiful smile. We met when Mom and Dad first moved to the Fremont area, just outside of San Jose, to get some peace and quiet from the hustle and bustle of city life. My parents said it wouldn’t be temporary--that we’d be staying there to avoid the paparazzi. Mom and Dad said that the journalists following us thought we were still in L.A. and soon, the search would be on to find our new dwelling.

            I never asked what they would do once they did.

            Instead, we focused on making the best of our time in Fremont. Mom and Dad bought a comparatively tiny house in a suburban neighborhood with three bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms (at the time, I had to ask what a half bathroom was...if they had to cut the toilet in half to have one and how that would work). I went to the local elementary school and was taught to never say my parents’ name or my surname unless asked to and to keep who we were under tight wraps. It might have been extreme for the minuscule level of fame they had reached then, but it seemed fitting for my dramatic parents, determined to make a dent in society.

            As for me, I had no idea what the difference was between “celebrities” and “non-celebrities” was. The two words seemed stupid. It reminded me of the people who earned the title of “Star Student” at awards ceremonies but never really did anything to earn it besides not behaving as bad as they used to. At school, I found that people became instantly enamored with the title of “New Kid” and enjoyed the brief friends it brought me (even if some people did confuse me for a boy with the bad haircut Dad’s barber gave me...Mom was furious for a week at him for even thinking of taking me to a barber). We played pretend, beat up bad guys...the world seemed boundless for us.

            Eventually, though, the allure of being the new kid eventually faded and with that, went the majority of my friends. Not that I minded--At least, I told myself I didn’t. I told myself that I preferred being alone anyways.

            Life in Fremont  _ really _ began when Mom and Dad took me to my first renaissance festival. Mom and I spent weeks working to make our outfits in preparation while Dad and I were the event planners, memorizing the maps and schedules. By the time the faire rolled around, we were all dressed like a family of sailors and merchants and we easily blended in with the crowd.

            The fairies, mermaids, queens, princesses, fortune-tellers, pirates, barbarians...it was all nearly overwhelming. In an instant, all of my beloved storybooks had come to life in front of me. In the heat of the moment and the chaos that surrounded me, I was left in a daze and became, to a degree, oblivious. So many displays of heroes and villains--I almost missed when a real-life villain had appeared. A purse-snatcher, who bowled over anyone in his way, suddenly ran through the streets. Police disguised as knights chased him. I watched in wonder and curiosity, freezing when I noticed the man being chased had knocked into a particularly tall display of weapons. Under the display, a boy dressed as a kid in a royal outfit stood frozen in shock. I felt myself moving before I could recognize that I could move again.

            An instant later, the man was being put in handcuffs and another knight rushed over to assure the children almost crushed by the fallen display were safe. I, on the other hand, sat on top of the kid I bowled out of the way. They looked at me as if I’d just handed them the entire world.

            “Sorry about that--are you ok?” I rolled off of them to offer them a concerned hand. They took it and stood with me, still in shock.

            “Y-yeah--I mean...Yes, my dear lady, I am quite alright.” They took a second to take a deep breath. Their face was red and I wondered if that meant they might cry in a second. I was about to rush forward to comfort them, but they spoke once more. “It seems I am in your debt. Usually, it’s the princes that save the ladies.” They laughed awkwardly.

            “I’m not a lady.” I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Just a girl. That formal stuff never appealed to me.” They, again, laughed.

            “I bet. I see that now--you’re more along the lines of a hero. Allow me to repay for you saving my life?”

            “More like saving you from being covered in band-aids…But if you want, I guess it’s ok.” I looked back to my parents, who hovered close by with thinly masked concern. Behind them, a man and woman dressed in royal attire rushed over. I would later learn that they were the kid’s parents and some actors who legitimately worked at the faire for a few extra bucks as a neighboring royal family. They’d been doing that since before the kid was born. We spent the rest of the festival together, running around, causing trouble occasionally, and having the time of our lives.

            Imagine my shock when I recognized them at school the next school year. Turns out, they had lived close to us and had been going to the school--we just never crossed paths before. The school year and summer we spent together had been the best of my times in Fremont--and I eventually, during one of the sessions where they attempted to teach me how to surf, I realized that I had a crush on them.

            Of course, that was the summer my parents decided we move back to our old home. That they couldn’t run from the press for the rest of their lives and they should take responsibility. I cried when I told the kid, and we hugged each other on the beach for the rest of the day.

            On my last day in Fremont, I kissed their cheek and they almost refused to let me go.

            We sent letters for a year before the letters stopped coming in.

            Eventually, I forgot their face, name, and voice. I moved on. But I never forgot the heir I’d saved, nor the kid who taught me to surf in between festivals.

 

* * *

 

            The memory was cut to an abrupt stop when a pair of hands slammed onto the table in front of me. Several heads turned in my direction, their expressions drenched in disdain and several of them hissing to be quiet. Typical library behavior. I sent a bewildered look at the boy who stood in front of my table.

            “...Dude?” I raised an eyebrow.

            “You’re Emiri Shuisen. The Occult Club President. The one those punks are calling Mizuchi now.” Judging by his red armband and a traditional karategi, the next few minutes were going to be very  _ long _ minutes.

            “Yes, Chiko Takahashi, President of the Martial Arts Club, the one those punks are calling a weird dweeb constantly. You are currently addressing  _ ‘the one.’ _ However, patience has run incredibly low these days, so if you could just leave a message at the tone…” My, admittedly, harsh whisper was cut off by the determined boy.

            “Shuisen, I’m being serio-”

            “Beep.” I stretched out the word quietly, staring him dead in the eye with the most emotionless expression I could muster. It was a good compromise between the glare and laugh I wanted to let out. His face contorted with discomfort. We stayed silent for several seconds.

            “Look,” I raised an eyebrow once more. “If you’re going to waste my time by asking me to join your club or something, I’m sorry, but I’m currently planning our next meeting...we’re talking about Polynesian culture and mythology today. I’m currently trying to work out the differences between  _ Moana _ and real life, since kids seem to only know how to reference pop culture these days.” I closed the book, standing from my seat to exit the library to spare the voices of those still shushing us. Takahashi followed close behind. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to tell them that the Kakamora are the trickster Hobbits of the Polynesian world rather than coconut pirates.”

            “That...ok.” He paused, trying to think. “Then...you have potential, you know…” He was struggling to find the correct combination of words to make up one of his characteristic motivational speeches. “But...you are also afraid.” I stopped walking and I heard him scramble to stop so he didn’t run into me. I stood, faced away from him, before looking over at the usually exuberant boy over my shoulder.

            “Your point?”

            “Your style is really sloppy and ineffective.” He said flat-out, looking deadly serious now. “You wouldn’t last a second against someone who knew what they were doing. Last month proved that.”

            “...Wow. Insulting people to gain membership. Not even the Drama Club does that, Takahashi, and they’re pretty consistently desperate  _ and _ cutthroat.”

            “That wasn’t what I was getting at and you know it, Shuisen.” We stood there, silent. A stalemate. I sighed in concession and turned to give him a withering stare.

            “Then what are you proposing?”

            “I want to give you private lessons.” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion while his grin spread.

            “...And you benefit from this how, exactly?”

            “Number one, I have the satisfaction of knowing that one more person in the world is safer from harm than they were before,” The first reason was characteristic of the club leader; he had built a reputation early on of the kindhearted, loyal soldier. It made me stop for a minute to debate whether to label him as a “cinnamon roll” or “total nerd.” In the end, it seemed both were more fitting. “Number two...if you really wanted to offer me something in exchange, giving me credit for your soon-to-be-awesome skills would be enough. If not, a discount from the diner works as well. We could meet up there sometimes to talk about training schedules.”

            This gave me pause. I had another week of break before I was going back to work--and that was with Mr. Nakamura and Mai insisting I take at least the extra week. Akari had been texting me throughout my recovery, venting and telling funny stories about customers, but even then I could tell she was worried, too.

            I wouldn’t be lying if I said it felt as if everyone was worried these days. Walking around me like trying to evade broken glass. The feeling was infuriating...even when I felt as if I couldn’t trust myself with everything going on. The panic attack in which I assaulted four girls three days ago proved something wasn’t right. I took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes.

            “...I don’t work on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, or Sundays.” I informed, remembering how my schedule had changed after what everyone seemed determined to call “The Incident.” I hated how cliche it was. “Whenever I  _ do _ work, it’s from five to ten. But keep in mind that finals are in a month. Now, give me your number. This was my free period and I have to get to class soon, so I’ll text you about the first rehearsal later.”

            I thought I might have needed sunglasses with how his face brightened up exponentially. His dark eyes were so wide, it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of his head. I managed the ghost of a smile and shook my head. We exchanged numbers and I began to walk back. In my pocket, my phone buzzed.

_             “You shouldn’t trust him.” _ The newest text from Texter read. I scoffed and narrowed my eyes.

_             “And I  _ should _ trust a stranger who refuses to tell me who they are?” _

_             “You *know* me, and you know me well. You just don’t know. I’ve known you longer than that stupid lanky freak who follows you like a lost puppy, too.” _ I clenched the phone until my knuckles turned white. Was he  _ attempting _ to refer to Seskiel like that?

_             “Huh...who’s the freak? The stalker, or the boy who is just shy and is bad at expressing himself?”  _ At the revelation, I paused, heart dropping to my stomach. A vivid flash of crystalline, terrifying blue swept through my mind at the reminder that this man was, in fact, a stalker.

_             “You don’t know what you’re doing. Sorry about your friend, just make sure this is the right decision. He could be lying.” _

_             “What color are your eyes?” _ I typed. I walked into the dimly lit girls’ bathroom and sat in a stall, doing so only to get a moment of privacy.

_             “What prevalence does that have?” _

_             “I’ll only listen to you if you tell me.” _

_             “...Fine. Blue. Happy?” _ It felt like the world lurched under my feet. It was him. He was the one. He had to be. After splashing water on my face and promptly blocking the number, I began walking to class with a painfully forced expression. My phone was off for the rest of the day.

            The Polynesian mythology unit went seamlessly. It helped, though, having a bit of background knowledge. Grandma and Grandpa, having been from the Solomon Islands, loved to tell fables and myths. Keith especially seemed to enjoy the Kakamora, despite them “not being coconuts anymore.” Touma loved the idea of Pelé whereas Hinata enjoyed the stories of Kahō’āli’i. Yui wasn’t very partial to the myths, but seemed to enjoy learning about other cultures. I pretended as if I didn’t see Dewey in the back of the room, smiling in a proud sort of way. The glares that he sent Himari, who had attended the meeting for inexplicable reasons, went ignored, though Rin, Seskiel, and Dewey did not approve of her presence at all.

            I was gathering my belongings at the end of the meeting, getting ready to go to Rin and Len’s house whilst seeing off all the other club members, when I remembered my phone was off. I felt much more comfortable after spending time with the club, so I turned it on and waited to receive the messages I missed. While I was waving Keith off, reassuring him we would have another Mothman unit soon, it seemed like my phone was constantly buzzing. Almost so much in a row that it seemed more like a call. Looking down at the screen out of annoyance, I felt my face go pale.  _ “136 messages from  _ Unknown _ ” _ and  _ “3 missed calls from  _ Unknown _ ” _ flashed on the screen. I sat down and looked through the messages. Most of them went through the basic stages of grief--shock and then denial that he had been blocked, anger that I had done so, trying to make conditions for me to acknowledge him, depression that he lost what might’ve been his one link to me...however, somewhere in between that and acceptance, he had looped back to infuriation. While the number was unknown by my phone, I knew who it was in an instant.

_             “Why did you block me? Can’t you see I’m just trying to help you?” _

            I’d never blocked a number so fast in my life. How many phones did this guy have access to?

_             “You’re making a mistake. Stop ignoring me.” _ Another buzz. The buzzes wouldn’t stop. Seskiel was at my side in an instant, looking deadly serious. He might’ve noticed that I sat stock still, unmoving except to  _ block him, just keep fucking blocking him, get him away from me. _

_             “STOP FUCKING IGNORING ME AND BLOCKING ME. CAN’T I JUST HELP-” _ The phone was taken from my hands and Seskiel glared at the screen, looking abnormally emotional for someone like him. I winced at the incredibly harsh message he sent and gave Seskiel a small “thank you” when he handed my phone back--now turned off.

            “...I’m walking you to Arre’s tonight after Rin and Len’s. No buts. Stay close to the group today. I’ll ask Arre about bunking with you.” I nodded, still in shock. Why in the hell would I protest something like that? Himari made her way over, looking confused.

            “What happened? You look like you just saw a slasher film.” I shrugged, trying to lean away from her a bit.

            “I’m pretty sure some random guy got my number and he’s stalking me now. It’s kinda weird. You’d think after Thana, a girl would get a break.” I gave a half-hearted attempt to joke, but Himari’s expression darkened a bit.

            “Some people don’t know when to give up. Let me know if you find out who it is.” I never thought I would see Seskiel look so approving of someone he seemed to hate before. Rin poked her head back into the room, now followed by Len and Dewey, who had just come back from getting a drink. The blondes automatically frowned in almost hilarious synchronicity, though Len looked angry while Rin looked concerned.

            “What happened?” Rin walked over, staring at the object currently in question.

            “Another creep is trying to bother Emi.” Neither Rin nor Dewey seemed to appreciate Himari’s presence, nor the fact that she was the one who answered and seemed to be the only one comforting me other than Seskiel, especially after her confession three days ago. Despite this, she had thus far kept her promise. She hadn’t laid a malicious hand on me once. In fact, despite everything, she had been talking to me  _ more _ and treating me more like a friend. Like nothing bad had ever happened between us. While it was incredibly foreign and a little unnerving, it was a pleasant change. I shook my head and tried to lighten the mood.

            “H-Hey! It’s ok. Look, we’ll have movie night tonight, ok? We’re gonna marathon...Uh...The Back To The Future series!” I cried, quickly gathering up my belongings and beginning to walk off. While I was scared, it didn’t mean they had to. I also didn’t want to see the aftermath of another argument between Dewey and Himari within the past few days. They seemed to be having a lot of those lately. Rin and Dewey rushed after me, looking concerned, while Seskiel took up the back and kept rolling his eyes at Len’s fanboying of the series.

            “Are you sure, Emi? I know you mentioned wanting to see more Studio Ghibli movies. I still can’t believe your dad never showed you any…” Dewey began, putting a calm hand on my shoulder. I stiffened up, only because I was still hesitant about being touched and unused to the contact from him. I forced myself to loosen up a bit, forcing a smile. Something still felt wrong.

            “Yeah. I’m sure. We can watch those movies tomorrow, then we’ll have the last two weeks of school to study for final exam week.” I reassured.

            “We better watch my Ghibli movies.” Rin huffed, annoyed. “I can’t let you be called Mizuchi by those guys, especially when you don’t know one of the most popular examples of them in modern film.” I humored her bad excuse and nodded.

            “Of course. It’s a culture study and an exhibition of modern takes on mythology.” I raised an eyebrow, grinning at her, and tried to ignore the slight tug on my arm in Dewey’s direction. It seemed protective? Rin smiled sheepishly, though her face lit up a bit.

            “Yeah! That! See, it’s a great opportunity!”

            “But Back To The Future is a good  _ American _ culture study!” Len chimed, pouting, poking his head between Dewey’s and mine awkwardly to make the declaration... “And it’s a nice take on science fiction! That’s what your club does, right?” I put a hand on his face and pushed him away from mine and Dewey’s face, giggling and trying to ignore the sour look Dewey gave Len.

            “We dabble more in fantasy, but yes. Sci-fi is also acceptable.”

            “Does it matter when you’re all just huge nerds?” Arre popped out of nowhere, pushing Len and Dewey aside to stick his arm around me. I grabbed his ear when he winked at me.

            “Nerds that can kick your ass, dear cousin of mine.”

            “Why you gotta be like that, babe?” He whined, drooping dramatically and laying his head on my shoulder and pouting.

            “Do I have to answer the question?” I smirked, flicking his nose. “I thought it was obvious, jerk.”

            “Bitch.” He rubbed his nose, leaning away in mock-disdain. “Bad noodle.” He jerked back to avoid my playful slap.

            “I’m not a bad noodle! Stop calling me a bad noodle! I said it one time on accident...Why do you always call me bad noodle?!” He laughed, shaking his head, and hung back to talk to Seskiel. Something about remodeling his house...for the third time that week. Seskiel sent me a pleading look, and I mouthed a quick “Sorry, your problem now.” In response, he slumped and mentally strapped in for the long haul that was Arre trying to pick consistent home decor. After a few seconds of walking towards the Byers home, though, Rin seemed to stop for a millisecond upon realizing something.

            “Oh...Emi, by the way. You should probably know that we have someone staying with us for a while. A kid who was caught hanging around the hospital, sleeping on the benches. Apparently, she was homeless...we kinda wanted to help her out a bit, though.” I nodded in approval. That sounded not too uncharacteristic of the good-natured Rin and wanted-to-be-considered-good-natured Len. “But...Uh. She...kinda doesn’t like you.” This gave me pause. I sent her a confused look and frowned.

            “But she’s never even met me. How could she dislike me?”

            “She...uh… Vie has been staying with us for about a month. The night Thana...was...y’know...was the night Len and I were talking about setting her room up. She came to live with us the next day, and she apparently knows all about the case. Len thinks she’s trying to solve it--but all Vie knows right now is that all the cases are tied to you. She doesn’t like being around what she calls a ‘black sheep.’” I felt my heart sink a little. I didn’t blame the girl, despite the insult I felt from it. If I were her, I’d probably be in the same situation. Maybe.

            “Yeah, well, that’s understandable. This has been the month from hell, and last month’s attack looks like it might just be the beginning.” I looked at the ground and felt Dewey put a comforting arm around me. He stayed silent throughout this.

            “That’s...that’s the thing.” She looked at the ground guiltily, wringing her hands nervously. “...She kinda wants us to stop hanging out with you, or for you to stop hanging out with anyone until this blows over.” With that, a hand grabbed my heart from where it plunged and ripped it back into my chest, threatening to send it bursting out of it. This was bullshit. This couldn’t be happening. How dare she determine who my friends do or hang out with? The outrage was immediate and easy to acknowledge. It felt much easier to act upon than the knowing feeling in my gut. Deep down, I knew this Vie character was right. As it stood, I was already putting Arre and Seskiel in danger the longer I stayed with them. Len and Rin would be no exception--maybe even Toby, if I was correct.

            (Toby. It had been a while since I saw Toby and his massive god-complex. I never found out what happened to him--only that he went to high school with the gang and I after having escaped from North Korea and immigrated here as a homeless boy. Rin had befriended him, became his only friend in the world, and put up an ego to hide his insecurities. He always struck me as cliche, but I couldn’t help but think of him fondly. Despite his ego, he was always there at the best of times. However, after Thana, I would never see him again. It makes me sick to think about everything that could’ve happened. I don’t dare ask Rin. I know she felt it too.)

            “H-Hey,” I gave her a shaky smile. “Look...I...I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll join you guys another night. I think I better just go home and sleep it off.” Shaking off Dewey’s arm, I felt a large number of eyes on me all at once. My face went red from embarrassment and I felt my eyes tear up a tiny bit. Shame. I thought quickly and used it to make myself look sick.

            Len and Rin exchanged a look before Len whined.

            “But you  _ can’t _ miss Back To The Future-!”

            “I’ve already seen all of it. I just remembered...I forgot which movie was what.” I gave him a tiny ditzy smile and he harrumphed, looking disconcerted still. “And I will come to movie night next time, I  _ promise _ , I just need a tiny break...It’s been a long day.” I almost jumped when I felt Seskiel’s hand on my shoulder. He gave me a silent look and I understood. We branched off to go to Arre’s, a silent message from Seskiel telling the others that he would be back soon for the movie.

            “I’ll go with you.” Dewey nodded, looking serious. “You can never be too careful. That guy sounded really creepy...I’m not letting anything happen.” Seskiel shot him a doubting glance, but a quick nudge from me told him to give the guy a break. Not everyone could be supernaturally strong like Seskiel, even if they wanted to help.

            The walk was short and silent. I walked between Dewey and Seskiel, admittedly feeling a bit like a prisoner being escorted to her cell or a target of an assassination being escorted home. I felt myself tense up, the pressure building, and quickly shut the door on them after reaching the large home and telling them both goodnight.

            Not long afterward, I heard a large  _ “THUMP” _ outside and quickly ducked into my room. Waiting for my breathing to steady, I immediately went to grab the duffle bag I’d brought with me, putting in it everything I had come to the house with (while also grabbing an extra bag to store my new plants). I couldn’t stay there. Not when I was putting everyone else at risk. It was better if I was alone, so I didn’t hurt anyone. It was better that I was alone, so that if anything did happen, the last they would remember of me didn’t have to be a girl who’d been driven out of her mind by a stalker. It didn’t have to be like this. It was my fault that this was all happening at all.

_             All my fault. Better off alone. Better off-- _

            The thought, repeating in my head and escalating into a horrendous mantra, pushed me to pack faster. The only sign that I had ever been in the house, by the time I was done, was a note explaining my absence on the bed. When I opened the door to leave, though, I was surprised to find an Asian girl with dark eyes and dyed hair at my door. I froze like a deer caught in headlights. While she, at first, seemed surprised, she slowly smiled.

            “You must be Emi. I heard you were sick, so I came to bring you a care package.” She looked down at my bag and her smile became a tad more...venomous. “You must be really sick if you’re bolting off with that much stuff.”

            “...I’m going back to my house. I’m putting the people I love in danger by sticking around them, so I’m minimizing the collateral damage if anyone comes after me.” I paused, adjusting my shoulder bag. “...I assume you’re Vie?”

            “Heard of me, have you?” She smiled and set the basket she was carrying down. Upon taking the chance to look at her, I noticed her clothes were a bit ratty. “Well, that’s just brilliant. Now I’m probably on someone’s radar. However, I support your decision.” Her smile turned into a sharp glare in an instant. “You’re only leading people into a death trap. Thana isn’t the only one after you.” She pushed my shoulder back a bit, forcing me into the house again and she stepped through the doorway.

            “My advice? Stay the hell away from the Byers twins.” She jabbed a finger in my face and I leaned back to avoid being poked in the eye. “They’re good people, and don’t need your shit. Stay away from everyone, while you’re at it. Maybe the person will leave everyone else alone and this will all blow over, that way.” Vie leaned back, eyes narrowed at me as if I were the filth of the earth. My shoulders drooped and I stared at the ground, feeling my face go blank despite the torrent of emotions tearing apart my insides.

            “The hell do you think I’m doing?” She looked a bit surprised at my response. “...Just let me do what I think is best-”

            “Yeah, well, what you think may be best might just be someone else’s fucking funeral.” She shoved me back and I struggled to stay standing with the heavy bag.

            “I’m aware.” I glared at the ground, moving to quickly brush beside her. She moved to stop me, but I began sprinting towards the forest not far from the home. I heard her shouting after me, but I didn’t care. I was about to burst, and I needed a safe place to diffuse. At least the woods were home. The woods were safe--safer than the city. I had gotten to know them well in my desperate search for shortcuts to get to school.

            After what seemed like an eternity, I entered my own home, feeling sweaty and disgusting. I tossed the bag of my belongings onto my bed upstairs (after locking the door tightly behind me) and dropped the bag of plants next to it. A quick, cold shower later, I was setting up my new plants around my home where it seemed most fitting and convenient. Once the plants were up, my clothes and belongings from the duffle bag were the next to get put up. All that was left was what to do next. I supposed turning on my phone would be it and was unsurprised to find a torrent of messages from various people--including Texter. I made a silent note to myself to label him “Stalker” from then on instead. At the very least, it wasn’t like I had any more stalkers to take up the label (at least...I’d hoped).

            Instead of immediately answering, I took my time and prepared a video to upload to YouTube overnight. If any of Arre’s supposed “recovery/rehabilitation plan” aspects would help, it would at least be playing the cello. The one escape I could consistently rely on. After the recording, I stayed up a while longer to play a bit more, enjoying the opportunity to finally be myself and be safe for what felt like the first time in a long time.

            Finally, I began to check my messages. I assured everyone that I was fine--just that mom and dad sent me a text, wanting for me to keep living at home. Arre called bullshit whilst everyone else replied in various torrents of “I hate your parents!” While it was harder to get Arre to leave me alone in my home, he eventually relented, half out of frustration and half out of the vague understanding that sometimes distance was needed to help people with “PTSD” recover. (The thought that I could possibly have anything related to a war-or-military-induced mental disorder was doubtful at the time. I thought I was immune, or that I was just weird or crazy. That deep down, I’d always been setting myself up to be this way.) The last texts I forced myself to read through were my stalker’s. There were angry demands, calming and bargaining proclamations, a whole range of responses, really. But his last text was what sent me over the edge.

_             “You play beautifully. You should play cello for me more often.”  _ Sent five minutes ago.

            Out of pure spite, I picked up my bow and plucked the loudest, angriest, ugliest note I could possibly make on my instrument. I heard something make a loud, masculine noise of alarm, fall out of a tree outside, and soon, footsteps away from my home. A string on my cello snapped, cutting the note short. I grinned as I replaced the string, put my cello away, changed into pajamas, and went to bed, still grinning.

            That fucker.

            Beneath the hysterical satisfaction and hilarity from the whole thing, deep down dread stabbed at me. At this point, the stalker wasn’t giving up. As a plan of action formed in my head, I drifted to sleep in the midst of my hysterical paranoia and amusement.


	16. Chapter 15

            I sat at the edge of a pool. A memory just out of reach, just beyond my knowledge, gripped at me. A kid sat next to me--though they were only a silhouette. The gap they used to fill in my mind had vanished. Still, they smiled at me. I remembered their expressions and words--not the voice or face. The words registered in my mind, but they did nothing but phantom movements and expressions.

            The hot sun bore down at us and the dry air was suffocating. I pulled my feet from the water and stood, sending a jokingly teasing remark over my shoulder as I walked to the diving board. It was too hot to stay out of the pool. The silhouette stood and followed me, sending me a mischievous grin and sending another one back at me. We both laughed, and the air was filled with the smell of freshly cut grass. Inside, mom was making lemonade and cassava pudding. Climbing the fairly tall ladder, I turned and was surprised to find the kid behind me. They took a few steps closer, grinning at me. I returned the look.

            “Miss me so much you had to follow me?” I raised an eyebrow and leaned in teasingly.

            “More than you would ever know.” Lips were on mine and I felt the shock burn my face along with the sun. After several seconds, they pulled back and laughed at my expression. “More than you’ll ever know.” Between the impromptu kiss and my own racing heart, I hardly noticed that they began to reach back. Using the lurched forth, they pushed me off of the diving board.

            I promptly let out a mock-outraged shriek of protest before hitting the water.

 

* * *

 

            A shriek rang out as my back hit the mat. I laid there and groaned for several seconds, trying to ignore the grating annoyance I felt towards Takahashi. He, however, only chuckled and held out a hand to help me up. I abruptly remembered that life hated me and Takahashi was very serious about martial arts. Taking his hand, I sent him a glare as he helped me up.

            “I _ told _ you, your form sucks. You have the strength and speed down, but you don’t move right. You’re like...stiff. You move like a robot.” I glared at him while I hunched over, trying to catch my breath.

            “I mean, I am technically still in recovery. Give me a break, man-”

            “Your stalker won’t give you a break.” He deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. This gave me pause and I looked at him from my position, still huffing. He was right. I hated it. I nodded anyway, forming a determined expression on my face. The taller boy grinned, stars practically in his eyes.

            “That’s the spirit! Come on, let’s go again!” We each got in our respective positions as he gave me a few pointers. Throughout the rest of our careful fight, he narrated his own actions and gave pointers that were, admittedly, extremely helpful. This was the second practice we had, and we agreed that after club time, we would go back to the dojo he worked at and I would stay for two hours, exercising and practicing martial arts. Work had been uneventful, though Akari and Mai were very concerned (Akari in a more violent, sisterly fashion and Mai in a concerned, motherly fashion) and Nakamura scolded me for about an hour in between waiting tables. Takahashi, as promised, came to the diner and explained his plans to my coworkers. While Mai held some reservations, Akari violently agreed and Nakamura nodded in silent, proud approval.

            They said that they expected progress reports about the lessons by tomorrow at work. At least during the second fight, I wasn’t knocked flat on my back. Rubbing my shoulder, I frowned.

            “Damn...I thought you karate nerds were actually just nerds who occasionally chopped bricks in half. How is this karate stuff gonna help me again?” Takahashi’s expression almost instantly dampened.

            “You’re not learning karate. I’m teaching you Koryu-Budo the fast way--by demonstrating. This will give you the best defense in the form of offense. I’m guessing you’re not too into the ideology part of all of this, so I skipped straight to the physical part. If you need a reminder about what this’ll do for you, the three primary tenets for Koryu-Budo are combat, self-discipline, and morals. I thought this would align most in what you’re looking for.” He harrumphed and downright  _ pouted _ . While I expected that type of thing from the nerds, Len, and Arre, I did not expect it from the determined, happy-go-lucky, relentless Martial Arts Club leader. I quickly looked around to attempt to fix the situation.

            “...Well, then, what are ya waiting for, karate nerd?” I teased and he looked up, frowning again. “Teach me some Korea-Budo.” It took a few seconds before he was laughing.

            “‘Korea-Budo?!’ Where did you get that?! I’m going to definitely kick your ass now!”

            “Try me, Takahashi!”

            “Your death wish, Shuisen!”

            We went back and forth like that for the rest of the lesson and the session ended when I was able to put his arm behind my head and grab part of his neck, stretching his arm painfully until he was pushed to the ground. When he stood, he looked as proud as he did of his other students in the dojo or in the club, and I felt a spark of pride in me.

            No one had looked at me that proudly in a long time. It felt nice. Warm pride blossomed in my chest, puffing it out.

            “Now, don’t let this get to your head, Shuisen.” He patted my shoulder as we sat to get a drink. “The lesson today is over--But the battle hasn’t been won yet. You can pin me once, but you need to be able to pin me every time.” While he was obviously trying to buffer the pride into humility, he still beamed proudly.

            “You know I won’t. I would probably freeze on the spot if I genuinely knew I was in danger.” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.

            “We’ll work on it.” Takahashi smiled once more and patted my back. “Good work today--I’ll come to the diner tomorrow and we can schedule our next practice Sunday. For now, don’t you have a doctor’s appointment?” The reminder of the checkup made me perk up in attention.

            “Ah, right! I gotta hurry...thanks again, Takahashi! I really appreciate it.” I nodded, grabbing my things and preparing for an abscond from the area. With a quick nod and farewell, I began a light jog to the nearest train station feeling overwhelmingly positive. The exercise was nice, especially with my reinforced lack of any physical activity at all due to my injuries. After a solid month of doing nothing, I was beyond ready to let some energy out and move. I also found that the lessons with Takahashi were relaxing and stress-relieving, as I got to let out my pent-up tensions. My friends noticed the sudden change in my behaviors and while they were a bit suspicious, they were happy that I seemed to be “moving on” from “the Incident.”

            As long as they stopped mentioning it in every single conversation, I was happy.

            The jog (which, really, had de-escalated into a fast-paced walk, considering I had skipped too many leg-days) to the station was quiet and easy-going. I didn’t see anyone I recognized and my phone hadn’t buzzed whatsoever--nowadays, a small comfort in the midst of the chaos--and I was lucky enough that most of the people on the train for the work rush had passed. I found a seat with unnatural ease and sighed with relief. However, when I opened my eyes, I could have sworn I saw blue eyes within the small crowd in the train station. Shivers were sent down my spine. The eyes quickly disappeared as the train moved to leave the station and the panic went as fast as it came. I had, since last week, become more used to seeing those horrifying blue eyes trail after me and follow my small frame. While the texts had mostly stopped and I knew Texter was still trying to hide himself, I still saw. He was still there, and I’d slowly become numb to the sensation of fear. He kept his distance. He knew to, especially after what he saw happen to Thana.

            However, as the train reached my stop, my eyes connected with a man who had his hood up, baseball cap on, and a surgical mask. To the untrained eye, he was very creepy. However, he was most likely just a sick teen riding the train. The minute our eyes connected, though, my blood went cold.

            His bright blue eyes crinkled affectionately as if he were smiling as he nodded to the phone in his lap. Mine buzzed soon after.

_             “Found you. :)” _

            I let out an ungodly shriek and bowled over several people while scrambling to the exit and luckily, the fallen and complaining people had blocked Texter enough to give me a head start.

            I sprinted as fast as I could, my breath catching in my throat. Tunnel-vision claimed my sight and the short, rushed puffs of breath were not nearly enough to satisfy the need for air my exhausted body demanded, but the adrenaline coursing through me pushed me forward with the desperate plea to not get caught. Not again.

            I fell several times in my desperate escape to the hospital--it was the only reasonable escape my mind could conjure and it seemed any other thoughts besides “hospital” and “run” failed to be recognized by my brain--but I did not care. I hardly felt it. All that mattered was that I kept going, that I kept running, that he didn’t catch me. I felt nauseous. All of the pride, confidence, and determination that Takahashi’s lesson brought had died in that single moment on the train. In my pocket, I could feel my phone buzzing repeatedly. I could practically hear what he was saying anyway. He had been texting me long enough that I knew him.

            The vision of bright blue eyes surrounding me from around every corner and hiding every tree pushed me forth until, eventually, the exhaustion took over and my legs collapsed on themselves mid-stride. I tumbled into the grass beside the sidewalk, heaving for breath and laying perfectly still. Carefully, once I could move, I rolled off of the sidewalk and hid behind a nearby tree with the silent hopes he wouldn’t notice me. I realized then that I couldn’t hear anything in my panic--almost like my ears had turned off--and that as the adrenaline died, my senses began returning to me.

            When a hand met my shoulder, I shrieked once more. The woman standing next to me jumped back in surprise, eyes wide with concern. My face was wet--from sweat and tears--and I brought a violently shaking hand to cover my face. As I sobbed, the woman shushed me and helped me up, bringing me over to what looked like a fire pit close by. In the back of my mind, this brought me confusion, but the panic and aftermath of the chase’s tears were worse and seemed more prevalent. Around the circle sat three other people besides the woman and all of them, including her, wore what I could only describe as hippie clothing. Looking around, it looked as if the sixties and seventies had come back from the grave in this one, tiny campground next to the street. Not far from the fire pit stood a flower stand, a tent with clothing laid out with prices, and a lemonade stand. Only when I noticed that the woman had begun rubbing strange ointment into my cuts (I’d only just then noticed I was bleeding at all; apparently, falling can hurt sometimes) had I felt stable enough to speak.

            “I’m sorry.” I croaked, bringing my hands away from my face carefully. I’d noticed all visions of blue eyes were gone, leaving a distinct sense that I the perception of reality had briefly failed me.

            “Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. We’ll help you...what’s wrong, little one?” The woman asked, her short curled hair bobbing as she moved to work on my wounds. A pretty, young teen girl sat beside a teen boy with brown shoulder-length hair, between them a pack of cigarettes. He reminded me of a guy from a vintage TV show I watched once. The one who probably stood out the most was the Asian boy who wore almost all black. If anything, he looked like an emo hippie.

            “Someone has been stalking me. They found me and chased me down…” I trailed off, hiccuping. The woman nodded as if it were nothing to be afraid of. As if this were natural.

            “It’ll be alright. Why don’t you stay for a second and have some tea to calm yourself down?” She finished rubbing the strange substance on my scrapes and looked back up at me from her crouching position. “My name is TigerLily. This is Arlo,” She motioned to the emo hippie, who nodded gruffly. “Aris, and Ziggy.” She motioned to the two smoking teens who had started giggling, smoke trickling from their mouths.

            “U-Uh. Sorry. No. I’m going to a hospital appointment and...I really have to go-”

            “Alright. That’s fine. Just be careful, ok?” She patted my shoulder as she stood, looking sincere. “Don’t trust the machines. Remember that going natural is a perfectly valid choice.” I slowly nodded, feeling perturbed as I quickly strode away, watching my scraped legs meet the pavement with each step.

            Once I reached the hospital, relief flooded my senses and, despite the weird stares I got, I was more than happy to be there. It was a public space--while the stalker had shown he wasn’t afraid to look for me in public spaces, I at least knew if he killed me here or tried something, there would be security staff and doctors ready to help. Probably.

            While I waited in the clean white room for my doctor to check in with me, I took the chance to check my messages.

_             “You seriously are as beautiful as I remember. I never got to tell you that.” _

_             “Why did you move? You never told me why. Your parents wouldn’t listen to me when I reasoned with them.” _

_             “Mine didn’t either. They had to be dealt with, though.” _

_             “I’m glad your parents are finally letting you be independent.” _

_             “You always did have a wild streak. Never a lady. I still remember. :)” _

            My blood had long since run cold, reading those messages. The last two only confirmed my worst fears.

_             “Maybe we could move back to Fremont someday. Our kids would like it, if our childhood was anything to go by.” _

_             “...Do you even remember me?” _

            I set my phone down and buried my head in my shaking hands. Tears were brought back to my eyes, and my breathing became haphazard once more. On the paper-covered examination bed, I brought my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, pulling my knees closer. The regrets of so many years ago crashed on me all at once, and the only question I could think of was “why.” Why was this happening? Why did it have to be him? Why is he doing this? Why did he turn out like this? Why is this happening to me? Why did I deserve to be stalked and hunted down twice in the same year by different people?

            It all felt like a cheesy, poorly planned novel or joke. I just wanted to experience the world. I wanted to live my own life. Why did it have to be this complicated?

            The doctor found me like this when he came in, sobbing and muttering to myself (the later diagnosis of PTSD would be unsurprising to him).

            By the time he was able to talk me out of crying, I felt empty. Like I was floating. I missed my dreams of water, instead replaced with sleepless nights. It was almost funny--how could I miss nightmares when so long ago, when back then all I wanted was to return to dreamless sleep--but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. I had already laughed enough in my fits of hysteria when the insomnia would kick in.

            He sat with me, examining my scrapes (“What the hell is this? Why would you let some roadside hippies patch you up? You were coming to the hospital, what sense did that make?”) and while my check-up continued, I explained my case. The man nodded throughout, expression growing grimmer and grimmer. Eventually, he stood up from giving me minor bandages and assessing my stitches. He wandered to the opposite side of the room, carefully picking up a pair of scissors. I tensed up, but seeing this action, he raised an eyebrow at me.

            “Doctor Ohno...am I crazy?” I asked him, staring at the shears.

            “No. Maybe afraid, but not crazy. Remember--you’re still a child. It’s perfectly alright to be scared, Shuisen. You need to allow yourself to rely on others during this time. You’re not entirely stable, emotionally speaking.” He motioned for me to lift up my shirt, which I complied with, not lifting it too high. With quick, practiced motions, he snipped the knots at the ends of my stitches and carefully pulled them out. While there was no pain, only a slight tugging sensation, the sight made me nauseous. I pointedly looked away, taking a deep breath. A mental note was made that in twenty years, I should move out of the country as soon as Thana’s sentence had ended.

            The check-up ended with a card recommending me to a therapist and a lollipop in my hands. While I knew the card was just Doctor Ohno trying to be helpful, I couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. He said I wasn’t crazy. I knew I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t need help (the rational voice in the back of my head told me otherwise). The card and wrapper to the candy went into the trash. Popping the sucker into my mouth, I blocked my stalker’s new number and called a taxi. I didn’t mind the thirty-eight dollars of cab fare if it meant I got home without seeing the stalker. During the ride, I unlocked my phone and looked at his last messages.

_             “...Do you even remember me?” _ I took a deep breath and held it as my fingers hovered over the keys. The road became rougher as we left the city limits, getting closer to my home.

_             “I do now.” _

_             “...Now?” _

_             “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” _

_             “I would cross the worst oceans and resist firestorms to see you. Of course I came.” _ A dream came to mind. The reminder disgusted me.

_             “You could’ve just told me. You never needed to be creepy about it. I would’ve loved to see you again.” _

_             “I’m not being creepy. I’m protecting you.” _

_             “Oh, yeah. Stalking me totally isn’t creepy. It also isn’t illegal in your head, I suppose?” _

_             “No need to be rude about it. I really am protecting you. You don’t know what’s best for you, and I’ve seen what those other people have done...What about Thana? If I hadn’t done anything, you’d be dead.” _

_             “I’d probably only have a worse scar than I do now. I called the police and took action I deemed appropriate. You had little to do with it.” _ I glared at my keyboard. Was this guy really gaslighting me?

_             “It’s ok. I know what’s happening. You’re upset and traumatized...but you’ll get over what happened with Thana eventually, and I’ll wait until the ends of time until you realize that you’re being irrational. :)” _ My hands shook. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t irrational. I knew what I saw and what I heard--I knew everything I experienced. The blue eyes that shone in the car’s reflections of the blue light from my phone blinked and watched me steadily. They knew, too. The buzz from the cab driver’s radio drilled into and up my spine until it reached my head, only a dull whisper by then.

_             “I’m not irrational. You’re creepy. Either start acting normal or realize that I’m going to keep blocking you and calling the police.” _

_             “It’s ok, Emi, you’ll be safe eventually. Remember, I love you.” _ The heart emoji tacked onto the end burned my insides, leaving me hollow and enraged.

_             “You’re delusional. Enjoy prison, freak.” _ Another number blocked. Another waiting period until my childhood friend got around it. I paid the driver and closed the door carefully behind me, trying not to make too much noise. Passing the newly-finished police station that stood next to the train station, I crept through the woods as quietly and stealthily as I could. My strings were cut, and I could move easier.

            I locked the door behind me, making a trip around the house to make sure all of the doors and windows were locked and sealed tightly. Before I got ready to go to bed, though, I paused.

            I remembered the house was built during World War Two. Great-Grandpa was apparently very paranoid and built this house so that his son’s family could be safe. When his son walked out on his family to run off with some sort of hunting group, though, Great-Grandpa was more than happy to give it to Grandma so that she could raise Dad, his younger sister, and his even younger brother.

            Dad had never liked dealing with his younger sister, Arre’s mother, very much, so he liked to hole up in the bunker my soldier Great-Grandpa had built into the house with his own two hands. Later, when Dad’s brother was old enough to, he joined Dad and the two would make their own stories and secrets in that basement.

            I found myself wandering into the basement, where the living room and entertainment system had been set up. At the end of the room was a very short hallway, at the end of which were two doors. The one on the right led to the guest room, which had accumulated many of my friend’s belongings that they’d forgotten to retrieve over the years (the memory of my friends spending enough time at my home that they had to have spare changes of clothes over here was tragically nostalgic. No one had stayed overnight at my house since the American equivalent of junior year had begun). Across from it, a moderate-size storage closet with old clothes, shoe boxes, and memories.

            Those things didn’t interest me. After a moment of thought, I went upstairs to grab my pajamas, laptop, and homework. All of the lights in the house had been turned off before I turned returned to the basement, closed and locked the door behind me, and turned on a flashlight to return to the downstairs closet.

            Arms full of my belongings, I carefully slid part of the shelf away from the wall, taking a chunk of the wall with it to reveal a secret door. I closed it behind me, entering the downstairs bunker.

            I walked past the kitchen until I reached the bunks, which consisted of four beds shoved into stone slots carved out of the wall with matching bunks above them for personal storage. Once the personal lamp to the bunk hardest to see from the entrance was on, I took a quick shower in the, admittedly, pretty nice bathroom across from the bunks and put on my pajamas. As I finished my homework and went to sleep, I remembered asking Dad if we could update the bunker. Just in case, I had said. In case of a storm. He wholeheartedly agreed, remembering his own love of the bunker.

            I was glad that I had thought ahead.

            On the tiny bedside table, my charging phone buzzed. I checked it, glaring, only to relax when I saw that it was Seskiel checking in with me. After a short conversation about the success of my lessons, we bid each other good night and I silenced my phone. No more fitful sleep because of the stalker. No more seeing eyes in the trees. No more memories of machetes or dramatic chases.

            I smiled, enjoying the possibility of good sleep for once.


	17. Chapter 16

            The decrepit rowboat cut through the unmoving currents and gracefully made its way through the empty, everlasting body of water. Contrasting the deep, dark navy and cerulean waves I had grown so used to over the past months since it all began, the water shone with a beautiful, clear, vivid teal color that eagerly reflected and mirrored the partly cloudy sky above. The only variation was when a small wave would pass, bringing white pearls of sea foam along with it. The surface seemed calm, the bottom an infinite distance away while the sands below betrayingly looked to be only a short swim away. The boat suspended me above the waves, though, and despite being soaked to the bone, it held me just fine. Despite the boat being old and moldy with barnacles and an array of sea life and damage inflicted by years of ocean-wear, it held me just fine. Despite the sun shining overhead and a steady breeze trying to push the boat and I away from our destination, it held me just fine.

            I missed the water.

            Every time I went to reach over the edge, I felt as if I was going to be scolded. Brief overwhelming fear and guilt drew me back, prompting me to wait where I sat with no protest. The world was content.

            But I was not. I missed the water, I missed my home, I missed the safety and certainty it brought me. This old boat, this old thing that was not meant to hold anything more due to its age, it terrified me, no matter how secure it seemed. I hated it and it’s stifling, suffocating rules. Don’t touch the water. Don’t go home. Stay.

            I crawled out of the boat, throwing caution to the wind, and began running across the surface of the waves as fast as I could. I could feel the protest, the edge in the caution sent my way, even if nothing visually or sound-wise occurred. I knew the boat still followed, now derailing off of its path to chase me down. I ran in the direction opposite to where it was originally going--the way that called and beckoned me back.

            With every step I took, the ocean turned darker and storm clouds gathered as the sun set in the distance. The sky was still mirrored in the waves, but as the boat slowly crept nearer, the waves grew more and more rough under my feet.

            When I saw a large, warm, welcoming tree in the distance, my heart rejoiced. The final sprint home became desperate and just as the boat was about to knock into me so hard that I might fall into it, I jumped and landed on the tree, clawing at the bark to escape into its safe limbs. The boat knocked into the tree uselessly and the sky broke. The storm ravaged the ocean around me and my home, colossal waves eventually knocking upon my door to come crashing into it, all the while carrying the small, old boat away. Relief came and I knew, deep down, as long the boat was gone, I would be safe.

            Much later, the sky cleared and the water returned to a brighter teal that the sky reflected. The warm sun beamed through the tree’s leaves, surrounding me and filling me with a sense of safety. Climbing down the tree, I allowed myself to be submerged into the water once more and be hidden by the sky.

 

* * *

 

            When I opened my eyes, I almost panicked. I was unused to awakening in the dark, stone-sealed place, and it took me a second to realize where I was. When I did, though, immense relief flooded through me and I felt myself genuinely smile for the first time in what felt like ages. 

            The first thing I found myself grateful for was that there were no illusions of storms created by the ever-twisting trees in the windy valley of my home, nor were there bright, vivid eyes that didn’t pierce, but dug into you. The trees didn’t see me, the starry skies didn’t see me, and so I knew Stalker couldn’t see me. A small price to pay, but one that was worth it.

            After taking a shower downstairs, I trailed up the stairs to grab clothing and then get some breakfast, not afraid to take my time and enjoy the bright morning.

            I had time to check my YouTube page, smiling at the steady amount of subscribers that had been growing once more since I had begun posting videos again. I had, admittedly, missed the community a lot, and it felt good to reconnect with the online friends I had made over the years ( _ “Where have you been, Archy? A lot’s happened...” _ ) and I even noticed requests for Spotify releases ( _ “ArchaicRembrandt...the name is fitting!” _ ).

            It didn’t take long, though, before I had to leave the safe confines of the house to unsuspiciously start the day. I prepared lunch for the day, packing it in with my review materials. Not much was being taught, since finals would be soon, and I was glad for the lighter workload.

            By the time I left the house, there was a skip in my step and a hopeful feeling in my mind. Seskiel appeared wordlessly, having caught up to me after leaving his own home, eyeing me and looking a little disturbed.

            “Oh, come off it. I got the most sleep last night than I have in...what, two weeks?” I whirled around to beam at him. While he seemed a bit disturbed still, the ghost of a smile appeared. He always loved when I was happy. I, myself, missed being happy and relaxed. Despite everything, despite the paranoia, despite the hiding and secrets, I had the oddest surge of determination for the day. 

            “I’m still having the weird dreams, but I went to the place I told you about the one time and I was finally able to get some shut-eye. I wasn’t as paranoid--you know that no one knows about that-”

            “Knows about what?” Len placed an elbow under my head, smirking down at me. I pouted and stepped out from under his elbow, sending him tumbling forward. He caught himself with a whine and protested, trying to put his elbow up again.

            “None of your business, blondie. Just know that I’m not gonna be as worried from now on.” I poked his cheek, still smiling. This time, it was Rin’s turn to frown.

            “Our own best friend, keeping secrets. Et tu, Brute?” She leaned against me dramatically and Len caught on, leaning onto the other side of me. Both of the teens towered over me and I struggled to not be crushed. Seskiel only chuckled and shook his head.

            “It’s bad to keep secrets.” He patted my head as I let out a whine and reached a hand out to him, just out of reach from grabbing him whilst smushed between the two blondes.

            We continued like this, laughing and joking along, until we noticed the crowd outside of the school. Instantly, the laughter and smiles dropped, rivaling the speed of my heart falling into my stomach at that moment. Memories of Hana Fujioka came rushing back. The mutters, the crowd, the knowing expressions...it was all too familiar. It was suffocating. I hardly noticed the headmaster beginning to approach me.

            “It’s about time you showed up. Apparently, the last time I talked, I was too harsh, so I need you to say a few words.” He referred to me, grabbing me by my shoulder gently to lead me through the crowd. My face went pale and the world seemed to slow down. Why did he need me? What was going on? Who was it, this time?

            “Attention, students.” The burly man stood at the gates at a podium that had been hastily set up, projecting his voice. “It would seem as if another homicide has occurred on school grounds.” The mutters and whispers spreading through the crowd only confirmed that no, this was not just another bad dream. “Another student of ours has been claimed.” My heart raced in my ears. Last time, the man didn’t bother to announce Hana’s name. What was he- “A student by the name of Keith Rogers.” My face fell and my shoulders slumped. The world around me blurred together and spun out of control. None of this was right. This had to be a joke. I looked at the crowd, finding the faces of my friends, only to find them shocked and horrified. I wasn’t crazy. I never thought I would regret the confirmation that I wasn’t hallucinating so much. Regardless, the man continued. “School has been canceled for investigations to take place. Several of you will stay for a while to be questioned by the authorities, but first, the president of the Occult Club would like to say a few words for her fallen club member.” The man stepped aside, motioning to me. No one clapped. No one said a word. The world froze, waiting for me to speak.

            “...I...I had no idea this happened until just now.” While I managed to project, my voice was broken. I couldn’t fake the bravery and pride the headmaster obviously wanted me to. “Keith...god...it...it never should have been Keith.” my hands gripped the sides of the podium until my knuckles turned white. My nails dug into the wood and suddenly, breathing was very, very hard. “...Keith was like a little brother to me,” I admitted. “He was such a good kid. He had so much potential, so much energy...he was just a kid. He brought so much life to the club--he’s been there as long as he physically could. Just a year younger than me…” I trailed off, putting my head on the wood surface before looking back up.

            “If anyone knows who did this...anyone at all, come forward.” My voice and expression turned dark now. Several people in the crowd flinched. “That boy...that boy never hated anyone. Never targeted anyone. Never did anything wrong.” I growled, tears in my eyes. “Keith was one of the best people I ever met, and he didn’t deserve this! God, no one deserved this!” I felt the headmaster reach to grab my shoulder, but I shoved him away.

            “And you! You wanted me to speak, don’t kick me off of the mic because you only realized now that revealing that one of my best kids just died to me before I was thrown to the wolves to make a speech was a bad idea!” I growled, glaring fiercely. He backed off, allowing me to retake my place. My shoulders, slumped, the fire quickly dying.

            “...Keith was a good boy. He was the little brother of the group--one who never failed to lighten a room, one who always followed instructions, and one I could never bore, even with my occasional hour-long lectures. He was always so fascinated with the world…” I gulped, trying to choke down the tears. In the crowd, I could see some of the other club members tearing up or deflating sympathetically. The ex-Cooking Club president was sobbing openly. Takahashi looked as if he wanted to run on stage, but he stayed glued to his spot. “...I...I can’t…” The headmaster grabbed my shoulder once more and whispered to me.

            “There is one more announcement, Shuisen. You know the rules.” My heart wrenched in my chest as I used the podium to support my weight. I put my head against the podium, gritting my teeth to hold everything back, using all of my will not to scream at the wind.

            “...In respects to our lost club member, I must announce that the Occult Club has been officially disbanded. It wouldn’t be the same without Keith, and that’s the bottom line.” In the middle of the crowd, Hinata and Yui clung to each other, silently sobbing. “...It’s over.” With that, without any regard for what might happen, I walked off the stage and began walking in a random direction, holding my face in my hands to keep myself from screaming.

            Behind me, the crowd burst with angry shouts. Demands for justice...security...emotional respect...the Occult Club’s grievances to be dealt with. I didn’t care. School was over for the day, I had nowhere to be. At some point, I quit walking and fell to my knees, curling into a ball on the sidewalk. Unable to take the agony, I let out a scream of pain. Grief. I had gotten to know the boy since I had moved there--he had been a small constant. A relief, a brother figure that while I never saw much outside of the club, was still like a little brother or son to me. I felt a hand on my back and shot an arm out towards the person, rolling over to fall on my back, still in tears.

            Seskiel looked at me like a deer in the headlights, Dewey, Takahashi, Arre (who had somehow arrived between the speech and me running off) and Himari not far behind him. I saw Rin and Len in the distance running to catch up.

            The dark brunette stared at me for a second before making the executive decision to scoop me up like a child and begin walking. He knew where I wanted to go--where I almost always went when I was distressed. Takahashi walked on one side, looking like a soldier walking into war while Arre and Rin stayed close to Seskiel’s other side, both of them whispering reassurances and staying together to share their grief. Len, Himari, and Dewey fell behind as if they were in a military block, Len trying to give silent reassurances while Dewey stared blankly at nothing and Himari frowned, deep in thought.

            I clung onto Seskiel, ignoring the world around me and once I was done sobbing, I blankly stared at his jacket. I was empty. Life was empty.

            In the back of my head was the nagging feeling that it was all my fault.

            Not even the diner doors opening could bring me out of my trance. Mai smiled when she turned to greet us, but as soon as she saw the state we were in, she ushered Seskiel intoto the back room. Mr. Nakamura let some of his assistant chefs take over while Akari and Mai sent some of the newer girls to cover the house. Seskiel sat beside me, rubbing circles into my back, as I recounted the events of the morning. Akari was enraged, going off on a rant almost immediately while Nakamura and Mai sat, changing worried glances.

            “If you’re lookin’ to work tonight, you must be mistaken.” The stern, tubbier man frowned disapprovingly. “You need to go home and rest. Obviously, you’re not feeling well. Besides, it sounds like they might’ve wanted to question you for any leads. You were his club leader...you should go back for questioning.”

            “To hell with that! What was that ass thinking, sending a teenage girl to deliver a speech like that without giving her time to...ugh! He just-”

            “That’s enough, Akari. None of us are particularly pleased with this scenario.” Mai moved to sit on the other side of me, pulling me into a hug. “Hiroshi, while I agree that she should go back, for the time being she needs to take a break and think this through. When she’s upset, she likes to work and forget about what happened.” I numbly nodded, staring at the floor.

            “Will she even be conscious enough to work? She looks like someone ripped her mind right out of her.”

            This back and forth continued for a while before they determined that I could work at the bar and talk some things out. Nakamura, Mai, and Akari wouldn’t be far, so they would be listening to whatever we had to say. Forcing myself to snap out of my trance, I realized that “whatever” was going to be a lot.

            Seskiel returned to the dining area while my coworkers returned to their stations so I could throw on my uniform quickly.

            Returning to the dining area to see my friends lined up at the bar like a group of soldiers waiting to collaborate on their next move would have been hilarious if not for the circumstances. While I got them drinks and delivered a warm meal despite it being past breakfast, I recalled the happenings of the previous night and the actions of the Stalker. How he declared himself as my childhood friend. In the back of my mind, I felt as if the two connected, but the majority of my mind didn’t want to face the idea of partially being responsible for Keith’s murder. My friends’ expressions, all the while, varied greatly throughout the entire thing. Shock, anger, fear, outrage, worry...nothing good.

            It felt as if last night’s joyful sleep was for nothing.

_             ‘How dare you sleep in a fucking safety bunker when Keith was out, being murdered?’ _

            The thoughts brought to light from the possible revelation made my gut twist in agony. In the back of my mind, swears were made to give whoever did this hell.

            “You gotta come to the police about this.” Dewey was the first to speak when I finished. Takahashi grimly nodded from his seat.

            “He’s right. This guy is obviously trouble...He...He might’ve been the one behind this.” Takahashi’s eyes were narrowed seriously, thinking intensely. “I think I want to up your lesson time, and I want to work out a schedule so that you’re never completely alone at any given point in time.” Seskiel nodded in agreement, huffing quietly. “You don’t have the club anymore, and working here will make sure that you’re in a public place where you have at least three people looking out for you.” The boy folded his hands in front of him, thinking.

            “I’ll fight him.” Len declared, sipping his chocolate and strawberry shake. “I’ll kill him if he messes with my Em-”

            “Only if you remember not to pee your pants first.” Seskiel snarked, earning a shocked and outraged look from Len.

            “That was only once! Besides, I didn’t really pee my pants, I just dropped my drink.” The blonde grumbled, somehow managing to make the next sip of his drink look petty. Seskiel rolled his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his face. At least they weren’t fighting.

            “This is insane. Emi, you need to move back in with me.” Arre deadpanned, looking serious. “We have the best of the best security, and I know that you left-”

            “She what?” Himari demanded, looking a bit outraged. “Why would you be so stupid?” Several eyes were on me now. I looked at the tiled floor, pausing in my work. Suddenly, the dispenser I had been cleaning looked a lot more interesting.

            “Well?” Arre demanded, almost glaring now.

            “...You’re my family and I love you.” I prefaced my next statement. “If what we’re theorizing is right, I’m not letting you be like…” I held my breath, seeing Arre about to protest, my resolve hardened. “No. You listen the fuck up, Arre. Usually, I’m very patient with you, but now you’ll listen to me. You will not be the next Hana Fujioka or Keith Rogers.” We maintained eye contact, my throat oddly stinging. Holding back emotions. The twins and Takahashi eyed us uncomfortably, feeling the tension heavy in the air.

            “...Well, then the logic of having a schedule with you goes out the window.” Himari deadpanned. “You have to think about this seriously. I guess it’s fair, not wanting to get us hurt. None of us want to get hurt, either,” Several people, Seskiel especially was about to protest, but the raven-haired girl quickly pressed on. “And probably only two or three of us here are actually capable or qualified to handle this, and that’s hardly including me. Takahashi, we barely know, and can’t trust the most, and Seskiel can’t stay up all night.”

            “What do you suggest we do, then?” Dewey frowned at his friend, crossing his arms.

            “ _ We _ don’t do anything besides keep an eye and ear out. See if any rumors are going around school about the attacks, and which ones have merit. We know the photography club will be all over the possibility of sleuthing.” Himari deadpanned.

            “Then what about Emi?” The brunet questioned once more.

            “There’s a new police station not far from her house. Emi can talk to them. They’ll know she’s telling the truth, especially after last time. They can set up some routines with her. It’ll be even easier knowing we have Officer Ito on our side.”

            Just like that, my friends began planning my life for the next few weeks while I cleaned, finding myself empty and glad to have busy work. It was a small comfort after having the rug pulled out from under me and the earth disappearing with it. A small comfort in the world when it seemed to be on fire. The familiar tug of reminders on my phone went off throughout my shift, signaling me when to plan the next meeting and when to tell the office about the next week’s plans. The phantom pains of remorse recoursed through my veins, deflating my system. There would be no more need for reminders. Keith was dead and with it, the Occult Club. That was the bottom line.

            The night went on like this--I ignored my friends’ attempts to bring me into the conversation and instead allow myself to wallow for a bit. I was almost angry with them, pretending like everything was normal. I knew that this was what they thought I needed to cheer back up and feel safe again--but it wasn’t what I needed. I didn’t know what I needed, and neither did they. In the end, none of us were professionals and we all did what we thought in our guts was the right thing to do, but in my moments of despair and hopelessness, I found myself distinctly lacking my characteristic gut. Instead, I was hollow.

            Takahashi was the first to leave the diner. He wanted to get home early to practice a bit on his own time and plan my lessons. Len and Dewey were next, Len jokingly flirting with the brunet on the way out. Seskiel, Rin, and Arre tried to stay for moral support in their last-ditch efforts to cheer me up, but wound up going to Arre’s house to watch movies in the end. Himari, on the other hand, waited. Waited. Waited. Not always making conversation, sometimes just reaching out to give my arm a firm squeeze of reassurance. These moments were probably the most reassuring the whole night.

            Plans could fail. My lessons could be rendered useless if I froze on the spot and panicked. I knew that by simply existing, I had become a danger to my loved ones. But the momentary reassurances, no matter how ridiculous, helped me stay on Earth. With my mind floating ever closer and closer to the clouds and me subtly beginning to shut everyone out, those small reassurances, whether squeezes or silly faces between customers, were an anchor to keep me tethered to reality and block the door from fully closing. It wasn’t a reassurance that things would ever be “normal” again, nor was it a game plan to “take down the big, bad man.” It was simply a reminder that I was there, and that I was still the person I always was, just with minor changes as maturity grew and life wore on.

            A reminder that despite everything thus far, the world didn’t end. Not all was lost.

            Himari looked confused when I thanked her as we left the diner and my shortened shift ended. I simply smiled and shook my head.

            “For the...squeezy thing. And the silly faces. They helped.” I awkwardly chopped my sentences, finding it hard to properly express the feeling. Regardless, the raven smiled on.

            “I figured. I’m not unfamiliar with grief and I most certainly remembered how I felt...how I wished I’d been treated…” she trailed off, startled when I put a hand on her shoulder to give her some reassuring pats. “Besides...who can stay upset when people are making silly faces?” I chuckled and shook my head once more.

            “Good point.”

            The raven and I took the train, her giving me the last available seat in exchange for standing next to me defensively. It had been decided at the diner that Himari would be the one to walk me home for the night, potential danger be damned. The captain of the swim team was, at times, just that stubborn. I blamed it on all the water stuck in her head.

            As we talked on the train at a respectful volume, I felt the tensions from the day melt away a bit more. While I had resigned to properly think things through at home, the walking and talking with Himari was a nice distraction. Eventually, though, we reached my home door and Himari paused me (I pointedly ignored the wince she made when she saw the couch by the stained glass bay window) as I opened the front door and turned on the entry lights.

            “...Emi,” The taller girl began, her face slowly turning bright red. “I need to talk to you really quickly before I go.”

            I nodded, waiting in silence for her to continue. She took a deep breath.

            “...You make it hard to hate you, though trust me, I’ve tried.” This...admittedly, was not the best start for her. I raised an eyebrow and she held her hand up, stopping me from speaking. “Just...let me speak. Let me explain why.” I slowly nodded, waiting once more in confusion.

            “...My parents aren’t the most accepting people.” She began. “For the longest time, I was raised to believe that people like me were...gross. Wrong. Immoral. Etcetera. You get the idea,” She begun nervously ranting now. “Instead of challenging that, I took it out on myself and others. Including you. My parents don’t even know that I’m like this because I’m scared to tell them. But...I need to tell you, because you need to know.”

            Tension seeped out of my shoulders out of sympathy for the girl. I raised my hand to pat her shoulder again, but she intercepted it with her own to hold it. I felt my face heat up a bit.

            “I’m gay.” She said, looking entirely serious.

            “...I mean, so are Arre, Seskiel, and Len...I don’t mind if you’re gay or not, but I’m glad you’re comfortable with telling me this...If you ever need a place to get away or vent, you’re always welcome to come to my house.” The girl gave a silent nod of gratitude, looking at me expectantly still. We stood there in silence, awkwardly, the girl across from me looking like a lost puppy begging for approval. “...I’m not sure why this is the right time, though. Or what that has to do with me...Or what you want me to do about it right now.”

            Himari groaned loudly, still holding my hand, and looked off to the side, looking a bit frustrated now.

            “You’re clueless, Shuisen. Absolutely clueless. The thing is, I…” She stumbled over her words, face turning more and more red. A slight realization came through and my eyes widened. She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t be saying what I thought she was saying. Not now. Not like this. As she stuttered, I noticed she’d become abnormally close. Her hands still clutched my own. I saw that she changed her typical icy blue contacts out for deep, rich violet ones that faded into her natural iris as if she had heterochromia. My favorite color. “Damn it, fuck it-!”

            The next thing I knew, I felt lips on mine and two hands cradling my face gently. My face went ablaze and I held my breath, unsure what to do. After several agonizingly awkward seconds of being too petrified to reciprocate, the girl pulled back, a mixture of emotions on her face. Relief, shame, guilt, self-consciousness, fear, appreciation, astonishment...All nearly unreadable from all the emotion there.

            “...I...I should go.” She began sprinting off and I tried to run after her, but the stabbing pain in my side stopped me. There was no reaching the girl. Not with my damn injury, not with me skipping every leg day, not with her being so ashamed of herself.

            I stood in the middle of the long path home, frozen once more in disappointment and regret. Slowly, still in a trance, I began to walk home. As I closed and locked the door, I walked up to my room like a ghost without a purpose.

            I didn’t know whether I felt the same for Himari or not. Just several months ago, she hated every fiber of my being and tried to torture me on a day-to-day basis. It was only recently that her sudden reformation came to light, shocking everyone around me and terrifying me for a while.

            I sunk into my bed on the second floor, staring at the ceiling. I felt water gather at the corner of my eyes as I stared, but my breath didn’t become uneasy as I cried. Emptily, I let myself sob without truly feeling a thing. So much had happened. Too much. My emotions had burned out, leaving behind the husk of stability and strength. The blue and violet eyes highlighted by the moonlight peered down upon me with pity, storm clouds gathering in the distance. Thunder cried, lightning struck. The eyes winced out of sympathy, feeling the rain pelting them. I almost felt sorry for them, in my grief-induced hysteria.

            It was then that I realized my assertion was wrong about Himari. She wasn’t different. Shoving this all on me, after everything was said and done, with the pain and drama suffocating me, she was only trying to push me down, like everyone else. Push me down, down, down, towards the one I’d been trying to escape from for so long. Drowsily, I began to drift to sleep, waves crashing and storms swirling, finding myself no longer caring if I was in danger in the open.


	18. Chapter 17

            Water was never suffocating before. Water was a good friend--a freedom, a relaxation, a liberty--and had never given me any harm before.

            When I opened my eyes, I was unsurprised to see that it wasn’t the water, up to my chest, that was suffocating me. The sweetly sickening smell of nicotine filled the air and in my struggle to get away from the stench, I found that my back was already against a hard surface. My feet, less than a foot away from me, found a similar situation. Looking closer through the thick clouds of smoke, my heart dropped when I found that I was trapped in a bottle.

            Reaching up, through the suffocation, I found that a cork stopper topped the tiny glass bottle and that the glass was so thick, it would take a miracle to penetrate it. This was, of course, not the main problem. What were the main problems, however, was the fact that the bottle was only suspended by a thick line of thread tied around the bottle’s short neck, a similar color as hay, and the fact that the nicotine in the air was filling and crushing my lungs.

            Taking a chance, I adjusted myself so that my head was underwater in the half-filled bottle. Taking a deep breath, I found that the water was, like in most of my dreams these days, breathable. Relief flooded me and I took my time to reevaluate my surroundings.

            Trees filled the grove and the only thing reminiscent of traces of society was a worn down path leading to the tree I hung from and a plethora of bottles sitting on rocks surrounding the clearing. Many bottles of various shapes, sizes, and colors were suspended by twine just like my own. A golden evening sun’s rays penetrated the treeline, sending beams through the glass to create a swirling, kaleidoscope of colors on the forest floor below. I planted my feet against the cork and pushed with all of my might until I heard a tiny ‘pop.’ Righting myself, I watched as the smoke drifted out of the bottle lazily. I stood on my tiptoes with my elbows and upper arms on the rim of the glass, I found myself attempting to hoist myself up enough to look over the rim of the bottle and see the colors better.

            Apparently, my dream-self had overestimated her strength. As soon as I attempted to jump out, I found myself flying up and over the rim of the bottle’s neck, screaming as I plummeted to my doom.

            In a blink, though, I found myself unharmed and in a tiny pond that I had failed to notice before (either failed to have noticed, or somehow managed to conjure in a split second). Swimming to the top, I found myself able to breathe air as well. The clean, foresty air that smelt as if it had just rained soothed my nerves. I allowed myself to float along the top of the water, content with my position. As sunset came and left, drenching the forest in a silvery twilight, tiny flecks of lights that I could only describe as fireworks that hadn’t been detonated suddenly lit up the bottles scattered through the clearing, rising into the sky. And like that, floating past water lilies and cattails with tiny fairies whizzing above in a startling array of colors, I fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

            It was still dark when I woke up. The trees in front of my window blocked most of the light from the just-barely-risen sun. Normally, the sight of the light was comforting. It signified a new day--a new start to tomorrow’s wretched yesterday. Not today. Today, it meant possibly having to face confrontation and the worsening situation at school. People had been texting Len all throughout the day before, and I wasn’t unaware of what they were saying. Some thought I was brave, being pushed onto the stage. Some thought I was a coward or weakling for running or crying over my good friend. Even worse, some were blaming me. Word about Thana had, undoubtedly, spread. It didn’t take long for people (Vie, especially) to connect the dots and speculate. Vie had spent just about all afternoon trying to convince Len and Rin individually to stay away from me, to no avail. I knew that the new day would mean not only facing her, but Himari and the entire school body. Sighing and pinching the bridge of my nose as if it would stop the oncoming migraine, I found that it wasn’t my alarm that woke me up.

            No...what woke me up was my phone ringing. Looking at the caller I.D., I felt my heart seize in my throat. I couldn’t say I was surprised at this point.

            After all, the few nights I got good sleep these days, bad things happened.

            Regardless, I picked up the call. Officer Ito began before I could greet him.

            “Kid, we need you to come down to the new station as soon as possible. There was an incident last night and you need to come in for questioning for us, ok?” I took a shaky breath and nodded.

            “R-Right,” The eyes on my walls and in the trees outside stared accusingly. The Judge, Jury, and Prosecutors. They knew things no one else did, and their silence bore into me. The beams of light reflected in the eyes, beaming onto me. I felt disgusted. “I’ll...I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

            Words were exchanged after that before I hung up but they flowed into one ear and out the other. Did it really matter at this point? Something was wrong, that much was obvious. What more was there to say besides that? What was the point of awkward small talk? An attempt to be friendly? The world was burning anyways.

            My head floated through the room as I grabbed a random outfit to throw on before grabbing my backpack, all the while dodging the spots of light that trickled in through the windows as if that would stifle the feeling of thousands of pupils bearing into me. The question of whether or not I would have to go to class buzzed briefly through my thoughts, but didn’t truly reach me. To be sure, I grabbed my uniform and neatly filed it with the rest of my inventory before leaving the house and locking the door behind me.

            The jog to the police station wasn’t long and, admittedly, didn’t even leave me very winded. I was too lost in my own thoughts, my head floating too high to comprehend how much time had passed, or how fast I ran, or who I passed on the way.

            Seskiel was notably absent today--though, to be fair, it was much earlier in the day compared to my usual routine.

_             (“Usual routine…” Might as well throw that out of the window. It died yesterday, along with one of the sweetest boys I’ve ever met and my club. Some leader I am. Worthless. Pathetic. I tried to push the idea that he was purposefully avoiding me out of my mind, but I didn’t blame him. Along the way, I didn’t see any of the others, either. My heart only sank, but the storm was watching, so I tried to not let it show that they got to me.) _

            I opened the doors of the station and greeted the officer at the front desk (his name was Hayashi, if I remember correctly...he was the officer at the front desk the night Thana attacked me. The memory and the similarity of the placement didn’t go unnoticed by me and it made me feel nauseous) who ushered me into an interview room with stern worry. While I had also been in more contact with him recently and learned him to be quite a stickler for the rules and stern, he was a very kind and not easily disturbed man. If he was this shaken, something was very, very wrong.

            I felt chills down my spine as I sat in the cold metal chair after being lead to an interrogation room. The cold, artificial lights flickered down at me.

            After several long, painfully suspenseful minutes, Officer Ito finally entered the room. I didn’t bother with the pleasantries of smiling. Instead, a worried glance was sent his way. A thousand tiny reflections of the lights on the mirror-metallic-like walls shone and bore into me, a million tiny glowing eyes. Eyes of thousands of tiny little storms, all highlighted by that disgusting fluorescent blue.

            “Who was it?” I felt myself asking before he even closed the door. He paused, taken aback by the sudden question. He softly closed the door.

            “...You knew already?” He questioned, moving to sit in the chair across from me. I avoided his eyes--there was a dried substance on one of the corners of the table--I didn’t want to know what it was, but it was easier to look at then Ito.

            “I can guess. I’m not dumb--I’m surprised you didn’t question me after Keith.” He relaxed a little, though he still refused to look me in the eye. “You’d think I’d be a bigger suspect or witness. But...you know, don’t you.” I looked up at him, feeling much older than I was. “You know who this is. This has something to do with the new stalker of mine, yeah? The one I told you about?” Ito nodded uncomfortably, disturbed by my seemingly-casual question. In the slightly reflective walls, my own reflection gave me pause. I looked much older than I actually was. My eyes, themselves, looked empty, like a dead woman’s. I looked so done, so tired...empty.

            At least I looked as bad as I felt.

            “We were going to. We questioned your work and in the community, though. You had an alibi for the night, so we didn’t bother hunting you down. This time...isn’t as easy. Do you know a young lady by the name of Himari Rio?” I felt all the blood drain from my face. The room was suddenly much colder, the fluorescent irises above staring down at me judgmentally. The first thing that rang in my mind was “my fault.” It really was, wasn’t it? I felt myself nod but had no control over the action itself.

            “Are you aware of Miss Rio’s current state?” He was trying to sound formal. It was hard, even for him. I shook my head. “Miss Rio was found outside of her home last night, shot.” My hands were shaking. The room was spinning. This wasn’t fair. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t breathe. So many people,  _ all my fault-! _

            “She’s alive, luckily.” My eyes widened and the officer jumped when I suddenly stood from my chair. “S-She’s...she’s at the hospital-” I didn’t let him finish. I walked towards the door, purpose in my steps as the eyes watched a thousand tiny storms swirled around them, me at their center. I was halted by Ito grabbing my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

            “Leaving right now will only look bad, Shuisen.” I let out a surprised laugh, but the rest of me was still frozen. Bad? What could be worse? Almost nothing was worse. This was all my fault. The lights were too bright. Too sharp. Piercing. It hurt. The piercing cut through me. I was being hunted. People I loved were dying. Bitter. Stabbing. It was my fault. I needed to go. Too bright, who in God’s name decided that those bright disgusting lights were a good thing to have in a place meant to protect people-?!

            “Tell us what happened last night. We can see if we can help you piece together an alibi.” I didn’t even bother nodding. Not even recognizing that I was moving or that I had begun to tell Ito what had happened last night, I found myself staring at my own reflection behind him. My eyes were wide in a way that could only be described as shock. I looked like a broken, haunted doll witnessing tragedy. Dark, empty, glassy eyes. Pale in a way that wasn’t natural. Curled hair trailing down my back, never falling in the same place when I moved. If I had any fairer skin, the resemblance to a doll would be uncanny, though I felt more like a puppet being jerked around on a string.

            When no more useful information could be retrieved from me, as per Ito’s discretion, I was allowed to leave the room. They informed me that since investigations in the main building hadn’t been completed and there were still more suspects and possible witnesses to question, school would be closed for the day and business would be back to usual tomorrow. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or frustrated as Ito walked me back to the lobby, looking a bit relieved but still concerned in a way that only he could look. I bid Hayashi and Ito a goodbye and left quickly. They tried to stop me on the way out and I knew what they were going to say. They were going to try to be the fatherly, big-brotherly figures they were and give me advice. Tell me not to worry.

            While I hated myself for thinking it, I vaguely wondered if their heads were so far up their ass that shit had begun to spew from their mouths instead.

            The rain from last night, I found, hadn’t been one of the delusions from my most recent bouts of hysteria. While the rain wasn’t the best, I found I could take comfort in it. It meant I wasn’t entirely crazy--that there was still a part of  _ me _ left. The sun had disappeared above the recently-returned clouds and rain poured down. I stepped out into the rain blissfully, not bothering to pull out my umbrella, and began to sprint to the hospital through the rain in my shorts and t-shirt. My athletic shoes squelched uncomfortably beneath me, but it was a small price to pay for the comfort the water and darkness provided. The day could wait--I had much more important business.

            It took longer than an hour to walk to the hospital. I didn’t see anyone I knew on the route, though it was a small relief. I couldn’t let anyone see me. At this point, there wasn’t much physical evidence to know for sure that this was Texter, but the coincidences were stacking up too closely. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Texter was after me. He was serious about what he wanted, and rivals in his way were going to be taken down. He saw Himari last night. That I knew. It probably wasn’t the best idea to even see her, but I needed to talk with her. Have some sort of solidarity in understanding what had happened.

            In a surge of confidence, rage, and determination to end things, I sprinted faster through the rain. If Ito, the police, and everyone else weren’t going to put this shit together, I was. I wasn’t going to let my friends suffer because of me and my failure to act at the right times.

            The hospital receptionist was surprised to see me. I wasn’t scheduled for a checkup, and she knew I had no relatives in the country, despite my emergency contacts remaining to be my parents. When she heard I was visiting someone instead, there was a look of pity on her face that I could instantly see through--one that made me a bit angry. Poor kid, getting stabbed, and not long after her friends following her. As soon as she gave me the room number, I stomped off towards the elevator. I was not some charity case. This wasn’t a doomed timeline. This wasn’t some crappy show or “Final Destination” parody. Nothing made sense anymore, but that didn’t mean everyone around me was going to die. It didn’t. They weren’t.

            The reasonable voice in my mind said I was overreacting. Panicking. I had to hope it was right.

            My hand hovered above the doorknob and I stared at it, dreading what I would see on the other side. With a deep breath, I gently pushed open the door to hear the rhythm of beeping machines and the light hum of electricity. Those false lights made the room much brighter than it should be. Memories from my own stay in the hospital came flooding back--with it, a sense of helplessness. I carefully walked to the side I could only assume was Himari’s and froze at the sight.

            Himari was a very strong, sure of herself girl. She was the captain of the swim team, very athletic, a social butterfly, and a go-getter. Her ambition was only shadowed by her athletic ability and her ability to talk to others and understand them. She seemed to always be able to reason with everything and, if she hadn’t abused me verbally for almost two years and wasn’t a year older, I might’ve had a crush on her. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have a crush on her; athletic, beautiful, witty, intelligent, social...from the perspective of someone who hadn’t been tortured by her, it was easy to see how someone would fall in love with her.

            Her current shape didn’t reflect who she was as a person and it made me shiver. She was asleep--her white face already more pale than it already was. She was shaking lightly and appeared to have kicked the covers off of herself while she slept. The bandaging on her shoulder was visible through the pale hospital gown she wore and bags had appeared under her eyes.

            Lifting a shaking hand, I retrieved the covers from the foot of her bed and lifted them so that they would cover her up to her shoulders. She shifted lightly and slowly stopped shivering. Still soaking wet, I went into the bathroom connected to the room to change into the dry school uniform that sat at the bottom of my backpack. It felt awkward to be in my uniform, but dry clothes were better than wet ones. For the time being, I left my wet shirt and shorts over the shower curtain rod before exiting back into the main room. I took off my water-logged shoes and socks, placing them by a heater in the room. Silently pulling up a chair, I sat down beside the seemingly lifeless girl and found that, once again, I couldn’t hold back the guilty thoughts. This was  _ my _ fault she was here. Everything that had happened within the past few days was my fault, and the weight of everything had been building and building on my shoulders.

            I couldn’t stop the tears.

            I silently sobbed next to her, the waves of guilt crashing down. The clarity of mind I’d felt in my determined rush to get to the hospital had left me in confusion and agony from the guilt I had forced onto myself.

            I reached over to clutch at the hand that rested at Mari’s side and gently pushed her bangs to the side. My heart clenched, as if someone had determined the only reasonable punishment for what I’d done was to strangle my heart and stifle the air in my chest until I ceased to be. I shook, burying my face in the covers at her side, holding her hand tightly as I sobbed openly.

            And she said she, at the very least, for god knows whatever reason, liked me. Maybe loved me. She was scared to tell her parents who she was. She was scared of even acting on the impulse, but she did it. She was brave, and she was hurt because of it. Because of me.

            When I could cry no more tears, I kept my head by her side, staring at our entwined fingers, feeling exhausted despite the still-early hour of the day. I stared blankly, letting my mind wander.

            I wanted to love Himari. I wanted to so, so badly, I realized. Despite what she had done, I had seen her change herself and develop into a genuinely better person in the past few months and damn, would I be lying if I said she wasn’t a person I could see myself genuinely wanting to date. But I couldn’t.

            I wanted to love Himari, but I didn’t know how. The world around us had been compromised and had come so close to falling apart time and time again that I was terrified. I didn’t know how I could love anyone, especially after the fact that it was now clear that Texter would do just about anything to get anyone out of his way. What kind of person would I be?

            The whole thing was just...unfair.

            I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep until I felt myself falling. Rain pelted me, knives ripping through my skin. It was cold--so, so very cold. I tried to scream, felt myself crying from the pain, but I kept falling through the rushing downpour and the lightning-filled skies. Thunder shook me and the water drowned my senses. I missed the sea. I missed the sea and the calm and I never wanted to see those fucking _bright_ _blue eyes_ again as long as I lived. The lightning stung my eyes and burned through my core, the only relief brought by the temporary darkness between strikes. I missed the bottom of the ocean. The pleasantly cool darkness,  the only cruel light coming from reflections of those I know well. But the ocean was gone. I was falling, and nothing would ever change, and _god_ , how long had I been falling? It felt like forever and I just wanted it to _end_.

            I just wanted everything to  _ end _ .

            I awoke by shaking. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find that the lights were now off and that the rain outside persisted. The digits still knotted with Mari’s were clutched tighter, but with her opposite hand. Instead of my face, my wet cheeks, laying on her mattress, I found it in her lap, upturned at the ceiling. The hand that I had been holding before ran through my hair, gently unknotting the tangles. Above me, Mari was humming lightly. While it confirmed the rumor that she was tone deaf, I found it reassuring. She froze when she saw my eyes on her and I had to stop and stare for a second, as well.

            She wasn’t wearing contacts. While she looked stunning with light eyes, I found her dark orbs infinitely more attractive. They weren’t cold and empty like Thana’s and mine--rather, warm and comforting. A rich, beautiful chocolate color. I briefly wondered why she would hide them.

            Panicked, she quickly tried to remove her hand from my hair, only to worsen the tangles around them. Her face was bright red as she murmured curses, looking embarrassed, but I carefully untangled my hand with hers to calmly help her hands get free. She stared me in the eyes, still looking embarrassed, as I pulled my feet up from over the edge of the bed to sit in front of her, legs crisscrossed. She matched my pose but leaned more on the headrest of her hospital bed. I frowned in protest, about to scold her to rest, when she put up a hand to stop me.

            “I’m fine. It’s just my shoulder. My biggest concern right now is my eligibility for the rest of the season.” She narrowed her eyes. “The swim team might just have to find a replacement for me for a while.” I silently nodded, looking down at my lap. I felt heat slowly light up my cheeks with red and began to intertwine and lace my fingers in various ways, hoping she would continue to speak and just ignore me. It was so hard to speak--hard to breathe. The raven across from me stared me up and down for a second before taking a deep breath.

            “I’m guessing I missed school.” She deadpanned, turning her head to look out the window and avoid looking at me. Her forcefully neutral expression made me wince.

            “No. I heard what happened and ran here from the police station. I was kinda just...soaking. By the time I got here.” I choked out. “School starts up again tomorrow,” I looked at her again, my brows furrowing. “Are you ok?”

            “I’ll be fine. I’ll have to stay tomorrow and the next day, but it didn’t hit anything important. Apparently, the ass had poor aim.” There was that cold tone again. The one she would’ve used at the beginning of the year. My heart tightened in my chest.  _ My fault. _ She knew, and she hated me for it. She had to know. It was obvious at this point. I knew she would’ve hated to see me here. It was still my fault. She wouldn’t look at me in the calm, peacefully ditzy, way she normally looked at her friends when her guard was lowered.

            I looked down again, gritting my teeth as tears threatened to spill once more. It hadn’t occurred to me before that she might hate me after everything that had happened. I sucked in a shaky, gasping breath to try and hold everything back, and, for once, I didn’t have the strength nor willpower to.

            Himari’s head whipped back in my direction to cast me a bewildered look as tears spilled down my cheeks. She sat frozen, her calming dark eyes wide with confusion and panic.

            “I’m sorry.” I sputtered. “This is my fault. I’m sorry. It’s the guy, I know it was the guy, I just...I’m so sorry…” I rambled between gasps and sobs.  _ Weak. Pathetic. Worthless- _

            “Shh, no, no-” Mari quickly leaned forward to wrap her arms around me (I tried to protest as I noticed her wince of pain, but she only reached more) and pull me close, so that I was almost sitting on her lap, my head buried in her uninjured shoulder.

            I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I allowed someone to see me like this and openly sob. The last time it had happened, I had just gotten out of the hospital. Before then, Hana had just died. Before then,  I didn’t even know when the last time I had let someone hold me when I cried. She rocked me back and forth, not making a single sound, get holding me and letting me cry. After what seemed like a decade, she finally spoke.

            “This isn’t your fault.” Her voice was still serious and hard, but there was more of a kinder edge to it. “...I didn’t know it was the guy. I just thought it was my awful luck...honestly, I thought you came here because you wanted to turn me down. I didn’t expect you to come because I thought you might think I was...disgusting or something…” Her voice had become softer, then. Barely above a whisper. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I lifted a hand to wipe my eyes.

            “No. Mari...I...Don’t not like you,” I began. “...I’d like to give this a try after I know you won’t be shot down just for kissing me.” Despite the feeling in my stomach and the blue eyes I swore I saw just outside, I forced myself to look Mari in the eyes. She deserved at least that. She looked as if she’d been set on pause, brown velvet eyes focused on me in what seemed like fascination.

            “...I thought you came here to shoot me down.” She barely whispered, her eyelids drooping. She looked exhausted, but...relieved. It was still a complete mystery to me why or how she felt this way.

            “If I did that, I don’t think you’d be able to get away with just a flesh wound this time.” I raised an eyebrow. “The police already think I’m a suspect-”

            “What.” She deadpanned, interrupting. Her hold on me tightened along with her expression, her eyes narrowing in a deadly way. “I gave my testimony. I’ve been ok for a while...the bastard didn’t aim well enough. I already told them you had nothing to do with it. Besides...the witnesses know that he...uh…” She trailed off and I raised an eyebrow. “...He’s over five foot, closer to six foot.” I crossed my arms and pouted.

            “Well, guess this is the one time I should be glad that I’m a dwarf, huh?” Mari smiled sheepishly and patted my head. Rolling my eyes, I found myself slowly relaxing. Despite this, despite everything--I felt safer than I had in days. We stayed like that for a while, watching the boring news channel that was left playing on the television screen across from her bed.

            My phone buzzed several hours later. In my surprise, I jumped and startled Mari, and she looked over my shoulder to glare at the message as I retrieved my phone with a trembling hand. Seeing that it was Dewey, I melted a bit with relief, but found that I couldn’t stop shaking.

_             “Hey, where are you? We just tried going to your house--you’re not there. Do you know what happened last night?” _

_             “Emi...this doesn’t look good. Where are you?” _

            I paused, sending Mari a questioning glance. She snorted and narrowed her eyes at the screen before grabbing my phone. I watched as she typed a quick reply.

_             “This is Mari. Emi is here with me--she woke up early after going to the police station to give her account. I’m fine, dork.” _

_             “Mari! Thank god you’re ok! We’re on our way right now.” _

            She raised an eyebrow at that, handing my phone back.

            “Not sure who he’s with, but...looks like we’re going to have company in a bit…” She trailed off, having been suddenly snapped from her comfortable reverie with me.

            “...Actually...after this, I’m not sure I want to...hang out with people much. For the time, I’m going to stick to crowds and avoid people important to me unless I’m seeing Takahashi about my lessons.” Mari began to protest, her dark eyes widening in alarm. “No. I know what you’re going to say, and I’ve had it.” I narrowed my eyes. “This guy is targeting people I love and is using them as leverage over me. If I cut people off now, he won’t have much to use over me…” I trailed off, thinking. “...I’m going home. Tell the guys I came here and shit talked them to death. Told you their secrets, that you were uncomfortable…” I paused. “...Tell them you think I’m going insane. Right now, they need to not trust me, and it needs to seem like I don’t like them.

            “If that’s the case, the guy will think that he has a small victory over me and has isolated me. He’d be right about isolating me, but I’ll need to talk to Ito and Hayashi again about everything I know about this guy. See if I can get some guys down by my house more often. Maybe even look into getting a weapon or something for self-defense. For now, I’m going to leave and make another YouTube video. People noticed something strange in my last one, and I think my case is garnering interest. Maybe if I use that, I can...look into getting help from outside sources...people who know what they’re talking about.”

            She opened her mouth like she was going to speak, brows furrowed in protest, but closed her mouth, sinking into her bed a little, dejected. I knew she couldn’t argue--it sounded smart. It was the closest thing we had to a plan, and it seemed like the only thing that would work.

            “...Fine. Take the back entrance and text me as soon as you get home, got it?” With a dutiful nod, I changed back into my still slightly-damp clothes, threw on my shoes, and was able to leave the hospital just as Dewey, Seskiel, Len, Rin, and Arre managed to enter. Rin noticed me and smiled, trying to wave and flag me down, and I froze.

            It was time to be a grown-up. Time to make an important decision--one that might change the entire name of the game. Taking a deep breath, I met Rin’s gaze with a sneer and rolled my eyes, leaving out the other entrance.

            Her expression was so confused and so hurt--it was physically painful. She trailed after, calling my name, but I shook my head once more and walked faster.

            I was stopped, however, when I found Arre grabbing my shoulder.

            “Em--we heard you were here...what the hell is-”

            “Fuck off, ass-munch.” I sneered in disgust. I knew Len would be proud; the only thing that gave my deception away was my shaking hands and shivery form. “Like I want to talk to any of you assholes right now. Do me a favor? Just leave me the hell alone.” I shrugged off his hand and tried to continue walking, but his eyes widened in anger before he stopped me again.

            “Emiri, what the actual fuck? You don’t get to talk to us like that--you’re being petty. What the hell is going on?”

            “What’s going on is I’ve realized what I have to do. I have to not talk to dramatic losers who waste my time. Honestly, don’t even talk to me. I’m just...so done.”

            “What did we even  _ do _ ?!” He was shouting now, visibly angry. The other stood in the doorway, shock and concern painting their faces. People entering the hospital stared and I wanted to curse--the last thing I wanted was to make a scene, but...this was important.

            “I don’t  _ know _ , maybe  _ think  _ about it for once in your life, Arrekusu!” I yelled his voice mockingly, roughly shoving him away before walking off. He moved to try to grab at me again, but I began sprinting through the rain. I didn’t think I could do much more than that. Dewey looked as if he was about to give chase, only for Arre to stop him, glaring after my retreating form. He mumbled something under his breath to him and Dewey looked at him, horrified, but made no other move to follow besides sending a worried and confused glance after me.

            When I finally got home, I set to immediately making a video. Another song, another time to get out my prized cello, another status update at the end. Acknowledging comments that people think I’m being stalked, if the blurry faces in the trees shown through the window in the background were anything to go by.

            The next hour was spent editing and uploading. After that, two hours were dedicated to calling Ito, telling everything I knew to him, sending him screenshots of all of Texter’s texts, and getting the confirmation that more people would be patrolling the area.

            The rest of the day was spent ignoring texts from my friends (except Mari and Takahashi at this point) and watching YouTube, hoping the knowledge that I was now doing my best to keep my friends safe was enough for me to not break down.

            When this was unsuccessful, I decided to go to bed several hours earlier than I would normally.


	19. Chapter 18

            Despite how much I missed the water, it didn’t seem like my dreams would ever listen to my wants or desires any time soon. Instead, the warm sun shone on my face and sand shifted under my form. Opening my groggy eyes, I found that the particles didn’t stick to me--instead, they slid off unnaturally. While it was unnerving, to say the least, it was nice that I didn’t get sand in my eyes when I went to rub them.

            What I saw on the horizon, however, made me freeze. The ocean. The beautiful, swirling navy depths of the Pacific. I knew this beach, and I knew it well. Whirling around in my seated position only confirmed my beliefs--I knew those bluffs anywhere. The trees, the strange patchy greens covering the sandy top of the bluffs--I had seen them too many times.

            It was where I went almost every weekend with my family when I lived in Fremont. Laughter filled my ears and I looked to what I saw before on the horizon. Two children--probably around the ages of eleven--sat on a board peacefully in the ocean and waited for a wave patiently, chatting idly between the waves. I sat there, watching the two. I knew them well--even though one of them I had forgotten long ago and the other I had stopped being for even longer.

            If only she knew. If I had known, what would I have done differently? Guaranteed that I would stay, I would wait, for him? Would I have stayed in love, or would we have naturally drifted so that his strange obsession hadn’t formed over time?

            It didn’t matter anymore. The questions were dumb--as was the dream in general. I pulled my legs to my chest, burying my lower face in my arms to glare over them at the two, still laughing and giggling and unaware of how their life would eventually turn out.

            “Ah, to be young, dumb, and in love,” A voice that made me stop, eyes widening, cooed into my ear. I went stock still as I found two legs wrapped around me, stretching out on the sand despite their jean coverings, and twin arms wrapping around me to pull me into the man’s torso. “To be like that again, I’d give anything.”

            I struggled to tilt my head and look at his face, which had rested just above my own. I knew him. I knew him well, and the thought of knowing him was terrifying. I knew him from his bright blue eyes, not quite as piercing as I remembered, but more teal. A color I used to love so, so much. It had reminded me of the waters of the Pacific.

            These days, though, the color terrified me.

_             ‘I don’t want to be in love,’ _

            “That’s you, right, Emi?” He looked down at me, deceptively loving. It drew a shiver from me. I trusted him--I  _ trusted him, how could he be-- _ “You were so cute. I mean--you still are, of course--but you’re more beautiful now. You look just as kind and trusting...friendly... _ warm _ . It’s so cold, these days, you know. Most people are.” He coaxed my head to tilt forward again, to face ahead so he could rest his chin on top of my head. “...You remind me what it’s like to be warm again. But you’re so  _ small _ , you know. So small...despite everything, so fragile...You really _ aren’t _ that strong, you know.” He squeezed me a bit tighter, smiling to himself. I began to shake. How could he do this? I trusted him,  _ oh my god, I trusted him-- _ “You should let me protect you.” He cooed again, his tone joking.

            His actions in the past said he was not.

            “Other people are just so untrustworthy...but I know you. I know you better than you do. I know you’re crying right now because you’re scared of me,” He was right. I was sobbing, shaking, frozen by fear. Takahashi was wrong. I was weak--too weak to stop him. This wouldn’t be a dream, soon enough. It would be my reality, my hell. I couldn’t do it--I couldn’t comprehend anything. It was all too much. “But I love you. I’m the only one that loves you as much as this--and I know that. Those others? They don’t understand. But I’ve known you longer, and I’ve known you deeper. I can keep you safe...and you can keep me warm. We complete each other, you know.”

            When had I ended up turned around?

            An audible  _ ‘smack’ _ rang out as I slapped him and tore out of his grasp, running to the one place I knew I was safe. I ran to the shore, trying to get deep enough to dive. Behind me, protests were screamed out by him.

_             ‘If this is love, I don’t want it. If this is heartless, I might as well be soulless too. If he wanted warmth so much, I would have to become cold. This is not love--this is not-!’ _

            The land itself began to shake. My eyes trailed to a cave not far off from where I stood, horrified as I stood frozen in the waist-deep waves. The cave suddenly began to open, revealing a grotesque iris.

            This wasn’t land.

            This wasn’t Fremont.

            I was thrown into the air as the crocodilian creature tossed its head back, it’s gaping maw unhinging, only to clasp upon my falling form.

 

* * *

 

            It wasn’t the first time in the past few months I woke up screaming and crying. These days, it hardly seemed like it was a rarity anymore. The only difference was that Seskiel was not there to comfort me this time. While the feeling stung, I forced the hurt down. I was protecting him, and it was better he stayed away.

            The worst part was not remembering  _ his _ face.

            There, in the dream, I had seen and heard him so clearly, it was hard to not place him. His name was on the tip of my tongue--I could even smell him. He was so  _ vividly _ there, so alive and  _ real _ , it was hard to believe that I hadn’t truly seen him since elementary school. The thought that I had him right there--that I was so sure that it was him--but had lost him upon waking was frustrating. I ran a hand over my puffy red face and through my knotted and tangled hair. I hadn’t bothered brushing it and, despite having gone to bed earlier, I didn’t feel any more well rested. Looking at the clock, I cursed under my breath. I had woken up much, much earlier than I had intended. Shaking my head, I groggily grabbed my phone to check my notifications.

            The previous day’s events hit me like a whirlwind and instantly, my head began to ache painfully. Twelve missed calls, eighty-five texts from  _ various _ sources, three voicemails.

            Pinching the bridge of my nose, I prepared to dive into hell and made sure my phone was still plugged in. This was going to be one hell of a ride.

            Angry, confrontational texts from Len. Two incredibly bitter texts from Arre, then radio silence. Supportive, “come to me if you need help,” texts from Rin (bless her). Confused, concerned, and self-conscious texts from Seskiel. Questioning texts from Dewey and Takahashi, who had mostly been left out of the matter. A text from Mari asking if I had made it home safely. These, of course, were excluding Texter’s daily dose of harassment. Those, at least, were a constant.

            I responded to Mari, telling her I was fine, and to Takahashi, telling him that I had a plan, but I needed his silence to the others, excluding the police and Mari. He asked what was going on (it surprised me that he was up so early) and I told him I would explain later--but that right now, it was important that I stuck with my plan. Once my texts were accounted for, I set it back on the charger and began my morning routine. After all, it was the first day school was back in session since Keith had been murdered, and I had a reputation to live up to, if the rumors at school were anything to go by. Tossing on my school uniform (today with shorts under my skirt), I adjusted one of my usual bows and threw on some long, colorful socks I usually reserved for times where I was allowed to look gaudy. A few more gaudy (but sturdy) plastic rings, matching bracelets, and a bit more exaggerated (waterproof...I was a smart cookie) makeup than usual, I found myself looking a bit like the girls my dad told me used to be at the school-- _ sukeban _ girls. Ones who even the delinquents feared due to their strength and lack of regard for the rules, others, and their own kind. They were popular back in the ‘70’s, but...they were more a cliched anime trope these days.

            Though, I might as well look the part of someone who needs space, even if I cringed at the idea that I would be playing up to the cliched trope.

            Oh well. If  _ I _ was cringing at  _ myself _ , that means I was taking a step in the right direction to make people avoid me.

            I went down the stairs, I grabbed my school bag as I was rolling up the sleeves to my shirt and ditching the sweater vest I usually wore and pulling my skirt down a bit to make it seem longer. Might as well go full  _ sukeban _ if I was going to be ridiculous. As I pulled my tie so that it would hang lazily and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt, my hands shook. I looked gaudy as hell. I might as well have been in some shitty shoujo or shounen anime. Though, on the other hand, for those that knew me, it also looked as if I just stopped caring and threw something random on with my uniform. Like I couldn’t muster the dignity or attention to even find my school shoes (today, I wore tennis shoes instead of my usual loafers) or tie my tie.

            It wasn’t a foreign feeling, being so empty and lazy that I just didn’t want to bother.

            Admittedly, it was almost...relieving. Today wasn’t about living up to others’ expectations. Today was about avoiding as many people as I could and keeping them safe. Keeping an eye out for texter. I left my house, taking my usual route and forcing confidence into my strides that I didn’t feel as if I could possess after the past few weeks. As I went through my usual route, I nodded to the small gathering of police officers standing outside of the new station for a smoke break. Among them, Hayashi (“Front-desk-guy,” he’d been lovingly dubbed after Ito went into a laughing fit when I tried to describe him) stood. When our eyes met, they widened and he held up a hand, jogging over to flag me down.

            “What’s up, Front-desk-guy?” I tilted my head, forcing a smile. It felt empty. He raised an eyebrow at what I wore but quickly shook it off, having not deemed it as important as what he had to say.

            “Shuisen, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but I need to talk to you real quick-” He looked around as if we were being watched. The few police officers to the side looked nervous--antsy, even--but seemed to determine to give us space to speak.

            “...What happened this time.” The facade dropped instantly and the deadpan question sounded more like a statement. An acknowledgment that things had, despite my best efforts, somehow gotten worse. Hayashi shifted uncomfortably, before looking off to the side in the direction of Seskiel’s house. My heart dropped. I didn’t even know I had begun walking in the direction of Seskiel’s house until Hayashi held out a hand to stop me. I turned to send him a harsh glare, but I was halted with a confrontational, scolding look. My posture melted a bit under his gaze and I turned to face him again, more sheepish than before. 

            “Look. You told us everything you knew,” He meant the plan, of course. Hayashi was smart enough to know that anyone could be listening. “It’s important you pretend that everything is business as normal so that we can continue on and conduct our investigations. Last night, several things happened.” My heart plummeted further. I felt like a child who didn’t understand why the world was a certain way; that Hayashi was the adult having to explain that no, the world was not fair. No, the world was not going to change just for you. No, you couldn’t control everything.

            Despite being seventeen, almost eighteen, those things were still hard to remember, so I suppose he wasn’t so far off.

            “Someone broke into the Byers’ home, but was seen by a girl currently being hosted by the Byers. Later on in the evening, the Kuran residence was also broken into, and the assailant attempted to assault Seskiel Kuran. Seskiel was able to hold off the man, but was unable to identify him before he got away. He does know that he managed to injure the unidentified man before he was able to go. If you see anyone with a bruised chest today...I’d keep your guard up and tell us, even if they seem like they’re not the likely target.”

            My hands shook and I found it hard to listen, but I nodded anyway. I needed to be strong. I needed to keep it together--I had to do it for them. I had decided long before that moment that from then on, everything I did would be to protect my friends and family. The constant need to remind myself wasn’t very helpful. The eyes in the trees were so distracting. The eyes in the windows, in the sky, on their faces were, too.

            I took a deep breath and leveled a neutral focused expression on him. He seemed pleasantly surprised. “Right. Business as usual.” This time, I lowered my voice. “I’m making people avoid me, but staying in public places. This will hurt my ego, but at this point, I’m surprised to have one at all.”

            That earned a chuckle from him and he shook his head.

            “You’re a strong girl, Shuisen. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Ego or no, you’re doing the right thing. See you after school?”

            “If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know. Tell your brother I said ‘Hi’ for me, will ya?” With a dismissive wave, I continued on my path, newfound determination and conviction in each stride. I soon, surprisingly, found Seskiel walking beside me. Not long after that, the Byers’ joined, along with an incredibly bitter and hesitant Arre. With each step I took, my frustration grew. I was practically jogging to stay ahead of and away from them. I was only stopped when Seskiel, seemingly having enough of my silence, grabbed my wrist and sent me one of the coldest looks I had ever seen him give me. Repressing a shiver and whimper of guilt, I mustered a glare.

            Judging from his surprised expression, it might have looked more like a grimace.

            “The fuck you want?” My voice wavered. My heart stung with each word--I hated this feeling. Cold, frigid, writhing guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. Seskiel, on the surface, didn’t look perturbed. Underneath, I knew he was afraid. He didn’t know why I was acting the way I was.

            “My cousin back, maybe?” My words seemingly snapped Arre out of his stupor. He rushed forward, haphazardly shoving Seskiel aside to get in my face. I winced, but refused to move my feet. “The better question is the fuck has gotten into you?”

            “I’m expressing my genuine thoughts.” I deadpanned, trying to shove the nasty regret down my throat so that the tears that came up with it wouldn’t show. I hardly noticed that Dewey had then arrived to look at my group, confused as to what was happening. “You always told me that I never stood up for myself, cousin, dearest, so I figured it was high time I started taking your advice. I’m not afraid anymore.” It was a lie. I was only following one of his pieces of advice--to face my problems head-on. This, however, didn’t mean I was any less afraid. One wrong move, and I could lose my friends forever. “Besides...who wants to hang out with a spoiled diva, a petty man-whore, a pushover...the list goes on.”

            Though, at this point, they were most likely better off. The little whispers in the back of my mind were hard to ignore when a thousand eyes stared at me from all directions. Judgment. Verdict. Disgust.

            “You’re kidding,” He sounded desperate now under his guise of apathetic frustration. I could tell he was hurt--we had been friends for so long. He was my family and one of my best friends--of course this would hurt. “You don’t have a bitter bone in your body. Emi, what is going  _ on _ -”

            “I don’t need this!” I let out. I felt the guilt that had been pooling in my stomach build and build--stacking and piling and oozing until it reached my throat, choking me and clouding my eyes with mist. “I don’t need this or you! Any of you! I have to do this, and you don’t understand! It’s not like you see-” I cut myself short, biting my tongue. They didn’t understand because I had never taken the time to tell them. I couldn’t. If I did, it would automatically be putting them in danger. New-found frustration and self-loathing found, I took a deep breath and leveled them a genuine glare.

            “Don’t make me waste my time by talking to filth. Fuck off, will ya? I don’t care anymore.” With that, I spun my heel and walked off. Dewey made a move to follow me, but was quickly stopped by Len. The whispers began and by then, I noticed the crowd formed around us. They parted as I neared, sending me looks of confusion, disgust, betrayal, entertainment...it didn’t really matter though, I told myself. This was what needed to happen. This was how it needed to end.

            Now, a million eyes watched me, judging, skeptical, whispering things to each other about the  _ hafu _ who lost control. I heard the occasional staff mutter something about being _ just like her father _ . Like I cared.

            (I barely saw Takahashi reach out for me, as if to stop me, only to be pulled back by two of the martial arts kids who muttered something along the lines of “dirty bitch” and “cursed.”)

            ...No. I was a dumb, impressionable, teenage girl who cared too much just about everything. Of course I cared. Of course it was terrifying to lose the name for you made for yourself within the span of a week. Of course it was heartbreaking and mind-numbing to be considered the reason others were assaulted or killed. Of course the thoughts I had tried so long to bury for so long about being worthless and a burden on everyone else’s shoulders was unearthed.

            Of course I ended up back on the same old rooftop that I hadn’t visited in about two years.

            On the empty rooftop, I let my hands travel against the fenced off roof edge. It hadn’t been fenced off my first year at the school, but after several... _ incidents _ ...that, to this day, felt haunting, they decided it was best if no one could access the edge. At least, not easily.

            But that wasn’t why I was there. My legs folded neatly under me and I laid my head against the chipped-painted blue chain-link fence. The bell rung, signifying the beginning of class, and I finally let the tears spill.

            I sputtered, gasping for breath, trying to be as silent as possible. I didn’t want anyone to find me at the risk of sending me back to class. I had worked too hard already to let my facade fall, and it hurt, but I  _ had _ to do it or else I would be putting everyone else in danger--I was just being a baby. I always was. I always had been.

            When the tears ran out, I found my back against the chain link fence, backpack at my side, face tilted upward to stare into the blue, cloudless abyss. My makeup mostly intact and my eyes only a tad misty, I couldn’t bring myself to care about how I looked anymore. My curly hair hung around my face, messy and frizzy from the humidity and activity of running my hands through it (the small beads of blood had long-since scabbed over. Scratching never helped, but it was a habit that was hard to kick) over and over during my tantrum. There were red indentations on my midtone skin marking where the many bracelets had pressed into my flesh.  I was, in short, a mess.

            But that didn’t matter when you or someone you loved could die in an instant, the rest of the world blissfully unaware.

            These things didn’t matter when you were painfully young and mortal.

            “You never struck us as the skipping class type, Shuisen.” A bittersweetly familiar voice rang out. “You know lunch got out a while ago. No one could find you. That’s...unusual for you.” I sent Yuuto Hayashi a stern look.

            “Mr. Pot? The kettle called. He called you-”

            “Right, right, I got it. Just what do you think you’re doing, anyway?” He plopped down next to me, back against the fence. Not far behind, Touma Mori and Itsuki Koizumi sat down, as well. It was hard to ignore how the three had formed a sort of semicircle around me.

            “Escaping reality and the demons that plague me.” I hummed dramatically, trying to put on a guise of nonchalance.

            “This doesn’t look good. You seem suspicious. No one trusts you right now.” Koizumi deadpanned, his voice quiet and succinct.

            “Ever so observant, Koizumi.” I sent him a glare. “No one trusts me because people I love are getting shot up, but here you three are. Care to elaborate?”

            “...You really shouldn’t be alone.” Now it was Mori’s turn to get a glare. He actually winced and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Touma Mori, a renowned shameless flirt and violent heathen, one of the oldest seniors in the school, was nervous. Naturally, not a good sign. “Look, doll, you’re the White Dragon’s kid and all, but you ain’t much. You can punch a few guys in the face and you learned from that martial arts dweeb for a few weeks, but...this guy’s a psycho with a gun who can dodge the police. I dunno how strong the police are in America, but...our guys mean business.”

            “He’s right, you know.” Yuuto sent me a stern look before his dark eyes trailed to the ground. Running a hand through his bleached hair, he began again, more hesitantly. “My brother is a cop. He’s not allowed to say much, but...he’s personally very worried about you.” My eyes suddenly lit up in realization.

            “Front-desk-guy?!” I blurted, leaning forward. Yuuto suddenly looked mortified, having been caught. “I didn’t think about your names! You two look so similar-”

            “Don’t. Not here.” He sent a shifty-eyed glance around the obviously empty roof. “Yes. Seems bro has taken a liking to you. Look...my brother cares for you now. Not only so, but you’re Mizuchi, White Dragon’s daughter. As such, I’m morally obligated to help you.” A look of regret crossed his features almost immediately after he said those words from the withering glare I sent and how much I bristled.

            “Not that you aren’t strong.” Koizumi amended, still looking easy-going, if a bit amused now. “But really, do you have room to negotiate? To turn away potential allies?” I held my breath, frowning mid-breath. I really didn’t. Right now, friends were a good thing to have. Especially friends who could defend themselves and had connections. Friends used to staying several steps ahead of their opposition or target. Yuuto seemed to deflate a bit as I settled.

            “Yeah. Sorry, Shuisen, but…” Yuuto trailed off, avoiding my gaze, thinking hard of what to say. Beside him, Mori rolled his eyes and smirked.

            “Whatever. You helped us, kid. May not seem like much, but, at the very least, you’ve earned some mad respect among us.”

            “You’re under our protection. We’ll be keeping an eye out for you. On one condition…” Instantly, the good mood I felt fell. Leveling them a three of a glare and pressing myself further back into the fence, Koizumi only managed to look more amused while the other two’s expressions fell. Were...they genuinely scared of me? “Next time your dad comes into town, introduce us, yeah? It’d be a dream to meet a veteran like him.” The fire died down in my gut, leaving me feeling...surprised.

            After everything that had happened within the past week--the past year, really--I hadn’t expected another offer of protection. The goal of the week, after all, was now to make everyone I possibly could hate me. To avoid me. I needed to be alone and seem like a susceptible target. The goal, at the end of the day, had become to alienate myself from my loved ones and make it seem like I wasn’t prepared.

            It felt good to know that there were people who would still be behind me through that, though, in hindsight, I should’ve expected this. It wasn’t like the boys gave a damn about reputation or attitude. Oftentimes, they saw deeper than that.

            I opened my mouth to speak, but the bell rang as soon as I did so. The last class of the day would be starting soon.

            “Emi!” A hostile voice rang out not long after one of the roof doors slammed open. “You three fuckers get away from her, or-!” A hand clasped on to Dewey’s shoulder as Takahashi followed him closely behind.

            “Dewey, Dewey, hold your horse-” Takahashi paused and his expression instantly darkened upon seeing “the delinquents.” I frowned and stood, brushing my way over.

            “They’re friends. Apparently, they give no shits about my efforts, but insist on being my keeper so that I don’t wind up killing myself before this guy kills everyone I love.”

            “E-Efforts-Wh-” Dewey stuttered, suddenly thrown off, but Takahashi simply pinched the bridge of his nose and let him go.

            “You never did text me that infamous plan of yours.” I let out a groan and beckoned them over so they could sit as I repositioned myself against the fence. Dewey was still beyond confused--he looked like a kicked puppy as he examined the semicircle. After the three bleach-blonde boys refused to move, the two hesitantly conceded into choosing spots dispersed between the three.

            “...The plan was to be a bitch and make everyone hate me.” I began, deadpan. The “delinquents” instantly perked at this, interested in the “secret mission” I had launched myself head-first into. “After Mari, I just...I couldn’t let anyone else get close to me. Mari told me something...personal...and immediately afterward, the fuckwad stalker struck and shot her up.

            Naturally, the only logical conclusion that came to mind was to alienate myself and make everyone avoid me. The more people that hang around me right now, the more danger they’re in.” Takahashi’s eyes widened, his face contorted with anger, but I held up a hand to stop him. “I know. I’m putting myself in even more danger, but...Look. It was already a bad idea to say this much here. Just trust me, ok? I have a plan. I will tell you the rest of it later, but part of it relies on how I appear. I need you to trust me.”

            He twitched uncomfortably, obviously stuck between what he thought was best and trusting what had become a good friend and sparring buddy. Taking a deep breath, he hid his face in his hands and muttered ‘ok’s over and over, as if he were still trying to convince himself. Frowning, I scooted forward and wrapped an arm around him. He froze and looked up, caught somewhere in between surprise and confusion.

            “...Everything is going to be ok. Trust me. I have a lot of friends…” A small, tired smile spread across my features. “They’ve helped me a lot along the way. I even have this one dorky friend who taught me karate.”

            “Koryu-Budo…” He muttered, he tried to frown, but ended up giving a rueful smile.

            “Sure it’s not taekwondo? It all kinda blurs together…” I forced my grin to become mischievous and Takahashi let out a groan, trying to push me away from him.

            “Get away from me, you’re ruining the name of martial arts and I don’t think we can be friends anymore.” He whined jokingly.

            “Guess I’m doing a good job, then.” I winked, letting him go and scooting back again. I just missed Dewey shooting Takahashi a heated glare before he suspiciously dropped it. I shot him a skeptical brow raise and he withered a bit under my gaze, looking at the ground like a scolded child.

            “This is dangerous, you know.” He commented. “He may be able to let this go, but...I want you to be safe-”

            “And she will be.” Yuuto cut in, sending Dewey a glare from beside him. “My brother and I are going to take care of her. She will be safe.” The words themselves, said with such stern and determined resolution, that I felt myself smile before I could help it. A warm, safe feeling.

            “You’ve got me behind you, too,” Takahashi answered with a similar conviction, puffing out his chest a bit with a bravado I felt envious of. My chest felt tight.

            “And, y’know, you got the cops.” Mori chimed, leaning back and relaxing with a smirk as if he was finally comfortable enough again to put on the facade of nonchalance.

            “You’re awfully protective,” Koizumi noted with a microscopic sly smile. “Got anything you wanna tell us, Yankee?” Dewey’s face quickly began to burn--a bright, almost angry red spreading across his features. Before he could answer, I cut them off.

            “Look, I get it, I have like...ten big brothers now, watching over me at all times along with stalker-dearest. Great. I get it.” I gave a shaky laugh and wiped at my eyes. “...Thanks. Honestly, this means the world to me...but you guys can only do all of this if you promise to stay safe, you hear?” Looking back up at them, my eyes drilled into their very being. “I don’t want any more Keiths or Himaris. I refuse to let anyone else die or get hurt because of me.”

            An uncomfortable silence fell upon us afterward. Silent looks of agreement and--yes, yes, there it was--fear. The eyes in the thousands of Yoshino cherry trees stared judgingly.

            I was reminded of how much I hated silence.

            Pushing up from the rooftop, I stood to look through the fence.

            “School ends soon. Don’t follow me or talk to me after this, got it?” I sent them an empty-eyed serious stare and got five in-sync nods. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, a mantra began again in my head.

_             ‘Yesterday is for being scared. Today is for being furious.’ _

            If no one else was going to be brave for me, I was going to be brave for me. If the strongest, gutsiest, most infuriating kids in the school were scared, if even the authorities didn’t know what else to do to help me, it was time for me to be brave on my own.

            Even if it was disheartening to have to remind myself of this for what seemed like the billionth time in several days.

            “You got it, Mizuchi. Stay safe.” Yuuto nodded, Mori smirking confidently and Koizumi smiling knowingly around him.

            “Yeah--if I hear you got hurt being stupid, I’m gonna totally beat you up, you know!” Takahashi’s spirits seemed to lighten a bit at the renewed determination and spring in my step. Dewey, however, still looked concerned. He seemed to only be stopped from following me by Takahashi putting a reassuring hand on Dewey’s shoulder and giving him a knowing look.

            With that, I crept through the doors leading back into the school and slunk around, dodging hall monitors and security cameras until I made it out of the school, reaching the gates by the time the bell finally rung, signaling the last class letting out.

            The trek home was surprisingly peaceful--no eyes. It was as if the sheer willpower packed behind every step had formed a protective ward over me, pushing back against the storms and eyes that had followed me almost every day for so long. The shaded trees of Hollow Hill hadn’t seemed so peaceful in so long--idly, my hand rubbed over the evil eye bracelets that I had still kept from so long ago--if I thought hard enough, I felt as if I could imagine myself walking to the home which used to be my grandmother’s when I was a child.

            A home away from home.

            Within the past months, I had forgotten what home was. No place seemed like home when you were constantly being watched, judged, and tried for both the sins you had and hadn’t committed.

            Though, the feeling of contentment was replaced when I saw Officers Ito and Hayashi at my doorstep. It had been two hours since I left the school. At that point, I shouldn’t have even been surprised. It was the same shit, different day, at that point.

            Ito gave me a grave look and I hadn’t even needed him to tell me what happened--I simply unlocked the door for him and motioned him inside, getting some tea for the discussion that was, apparently, long and important enough to warrant both of the men to have a private discussion with me. Once the two were seated at the bar that replaced the kitchen table, I leaned against it and gave them the most determined expression I could muster.

            “Do I even want to know this time?”

            “Since it involves my brother, yes.” Hayashi deadpanned, looking serious. My heart dropped, but...could I really even be surprised anymore? Of course  _ he _ knew I talked to Yuuto.  _ He _ probably knew I had talked to the other four boys, as well. My head sunk into the hands that had been supporting my weight against the marble island top.

            “...I’m now aware you know who my brother is...his group’s usual spot was wrecked with graffiti. The bastard isn’t brave enough to face them head-on, apparently.” Hayashi spat, sounding uncharacteristically bitter. It was understandable, but the sudden venom in his tone wasn’t enough to draw me from my blank-eyed trance.

            “Your buddy, Chiko Takahashi, wasn’t as lucky,” Ito began lightly, as if trying to tread on egg-shells between the obviously pissed-off brother and my emotionally vacant self. “He was found beaten the hell out of near the Martial Arts Club room. Looks like his arm is broken and he won’t be doing martial arts for a while, but he was lucky, all things considered.”

            “He’s in the hospital, yeah? And Yuuto and the boys are being protected, right?” The question came out so unintentionally casual and emotionless that I almost winced at myself. I sounded...bored. Was that right? It was all blurring together anyway. Hayashi seemed surprised that I was on a first-name basis with his brother before I quickly amended, “I’m calling him Yuuto to avoid confusion. Don’t get the wrong idea. Your brother’s a good kid, but I don’t know him and the White Dragon fan club well.” I deadpanned and Hayashi had, at least, the sense to look embarrassed.

            “They’re all going to be fine. Statements were taken, Takahashi doesn’t know who did it, of course. The camera caught the guy graffiting my brother’s place, but not enough to start looking at suspects. We’re working on it, though,” If he was trying to sound hopeful, he failed.

            “...There’s more,” I began, hesitant that I even wanted to know what else there was. Ito gave a hesitant nod.

            “This has gotten way out of hand. It’s been...pretty much confirmed that the attacks are related to your stalker. For your own safety, as well as the safety of others, you’re being placed under temporary house arrest while police patrol the area and we continue investigations.” A hiss of a sigh escaped my lips and I rested my head against the cool marble island surface.

            “Of course. I guess...as long as I can make up my exams.” Ito nodded, giving me a relieved smile. It must’ve been nice, talking about something as so trivial as exams instead of literal murder and attempts to catch a serial killer/assaulter.

            “Already worked out with your school. Someone will be coming in two days to walk you through your exams and either Ito or I will stop in every day to see how things are and to update you.” I gave them a clipped nod and they stood. Their tea had long since been gone, so I scraped up the two cups and set them in the sink before walking the two men to the door and giving them a warm farewell. Taking a deep breath, an idea unraveled in my head and, dishes forgotten, I made my way upstairs to boot up my computer and recording equipment after changing into comfier clothes.

            Several minutes later, sitting in front of the rolling camera and the lobby filled with several people, already asking what I was doing a live stream when I had never done one before. I simply gave the camera a patient smile.

            “Well...it’s time I came clean about some things. I haven’t been honest lately, and I just need to vent. Plus, right now, being with people, even if it’s just a screen, feels safer than being without.”

            That sparked more comments. The numbers of the steam-viewers climbed and, when the number grew over a hundred, I felt it appropriate to start.

            I began as close to the beginning as I could--starting with the hospital video with Arre. How I had been attacked because some crazy girl thought I was trying to make one of my best friends my boyfriend when she wanted him. How that blew up and over, and another boy began stalking me immediately after, attacking my friends and hurting the people that wanted a relationship with me out of what I could only assume was jealousy or rage. How the tension and paranoia had been building for months.

            There were some inappropriate comments, of course. Every stream has their downsides, and sometimes people just go too far. But most of the comments that I could see I did my best to respond. Despite the minority and their shitposting, the majority had nothing but kind words and supportive, defensive statements on my behalf. Most knew, after I shared, why I had begun the stream.

            Then, there came the comment about why I didn’t just invite my friends--even Arre, over. I tensed and, for the first time, found myself unable to look at my camera.

            “...I’ve been a horrible person to them lately. I thought if I could drive them away, they wouldn’t get hurt. Even my cousin--He looked so upset, but...what else was I supposed to do? I needed them to act with me, and I knew they wouldn’t. They’re too impulsive and protective to just let me lie in wait for this guy. They were making plans to go after him...I couldn’t risk them. They’re too important--they’re more important than I’ll ever be. I had to do this on my own.”

            Cue the comments rolling in, talking about how stupid that was. Some thought it was cool--like I was being a spy. Others asked about the authorities (those comments died when I explained I was under house arrest until the guy was caught) and I froze when I saw a name in the chat.

_             “You’re so dumb. I’m coming over right now and you’re explaining this to my face. Cuz, I love you, but you’re a bitch.” _ Arre had never really been subtle. It wasn’t his forte. As the chat exploded, I let out a nervous chuckle.

            “Hey, Arre. Kinda forgot you subscribed…” More familiar usernames rolled in and I couldn’t help but wince--several more choruses of “we’re coming over right now” rolled in and I felt...loved.

            Despite everything, they wanted to come over. No matter how many times they called me stupid--I knew, they were just worried. Disappointed and worried.

            The warm feeling died when the next set of comments rolled in. This time, not about the music idol being revealed to be my cousin.

_             “THERE’S SOMEONE BEHIND YOU. LOOK NOW. HE’S ON HIS PHONE. LOOKS LIKE THE STREAM.” _

            My blood ran cold as I whipped around, only in time to see the leaves rustle. My heart raced in my ears and I grabbed the empty tripod by my desk, standing up.

            “...There are cops everywhere on patrol,” I said softly, barely above a whisper. “He can’t do anything.”

            The doorbell rang. Behind me, the chat was still going crazy. Arre telling me to stay right there. Rin and Len begging to call the police. Seskiel going on a long-winded rant.

            The front door was in front of my face before I realized I had moved an inch. Hesitantly peeking through the spyglass in the door, I melted with relief.

            It was a tense-looking, lightly bruised Dewey.

            I didn’t hesitate to open the door and pull him in before shoving the door closed behind him. He looked shocked, sputtering, but I held up a hand to stop him.

            “I just saw the creepy guy. You shouldn’t be here, you know. He’s right outside--look. I just gotta call Ito-” I began to trail back up to my room, but I was stopped by him once more.

            “...We need to have a talk.”


	20. Chapter 19

            His words gave me pause. What was there to talk about when a murderer was most likely not even twenty-two meters away?

            “Dew, I don’t think you get it. Look, let me just call Ito or Hayashi, and they can take you home and maybe look for the stalker. I’m being serious, he’s right outsi-” I reached a hand out to grab his shoulder and I was halted by the much taller boy cupping my cheek.

            “I don’t care!” He cut me off, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration and concern. “Emi, I need to know for real. I just...look, I really care about you, and I know that you’re hurting,” He began, pulling me into a hug. I was frozen. Why did this feel so familiar? Why did it hurt?

            “I hate seeing you like this,” He continued. I felt his chin rest carefully atop my head. I repressed a shiver and let him hold me, hoping to God it was a friendly gesture and nothing more. He had always been more of an affectionate friend.

            ...But...admittedly? Looking back, I should’ve known he had only been that way to me. To him, this was flirting. He must’ve thought of himself as some sort of Romeo, coming to save the Juliet being threatened by a fucking serial killer.

            “Let’s just...forget about all this. Go somewhere, no worries, regrets...just...go somewhere, anywhere, and make a life for ourselves. This whole thing is really getting to your head and I’m starting to get worried. I see that far-off look in your eyes when you don’t think anyone else is looking, you know.  It scares me to death that I might lose you in that big mind of yours…”

            “Are you calling my head fat?” I probed quietly, poking his side jokingly to try and lighten the mood. Dewey sputtered and pulled away, face bright red with embarrassment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s.

            “Th-That’s not what I meant at all! You know that!” A bubbly giggle left my mouth before I could stop it. This was so dramatic and stupid, I felt like hysteria had truly begun to set in. Outside, thousands more eyes beamed in and watched in anticipation.

            This was the part in horror movies where the killer breaks down the door with the chainsaw and seemingly murders the male lead while the female lead runs off and somehow gains the strength and bravery to fight the killer, only to succeed and find out her love interest was not truly dead, just injured.

            I knew exactly what Dewey was trying to do, and it seemed as if the horror movie tropes might have been easier to deal with than that, along with everything else.

            “...Really, though. At least let me call Ito so that I can tell him I saw the guy right outside my window. Some information is better than none.”

            Once again, I found that I was stopped in my tracks by a hand reaching out to grab my arm. It was almost painful and I winced. Whether he noticed or not, Dewey looked entirely unapologetic. I noticed that he had a jacket on that I’d never seen him wear before, along with a pair of motorcycle gloves.

            He never struck me as the type of guy who would own biker gear.

            The next question came like a punch to the face and it spilled from my lips before I could stop it.

            “How did you get in past Ito? There are people patrolling outside. He would’ve called me to let me know you were coming.”

            “...I didn’t want to get in trouble...look, just don’t look at me like that! Your eyes are so empty again...I just wanted to see how you were doing...I saw the live stream and I guess I just made it here first. You looked upset and...I just couldn’t help it.” He seemed to get closer and with each millimeter closer, I tensed up more and more until I froze and he was so close that the distance, even in America, would seem intimate. Why couldn’t I breathe?

            A chill ran through my spine when he carded a hand through my messy hair, touch gentle as if he were examining a fragile glass ornament.

            “...I just have one question.” Not moving to look up at him, I managed to make an inquisitive noise. He seemed to struggle to find the right words before settling for, “Who am I to you, Emi?”

            The words caught in my throat. I didn’t want to be mean to him. Dewey had been such a good friend to me these past months, walking with me every step of the way. Honestly, I didn’t know how to feel about him. I didn’t know how to feel about him or Mari.

            It felt as if someone had begun to move my insides around. All I wanted to do at that point was sleep--I was too tired to even continue with the live stream, stalker be damned.

            “You’re Dewey, the American transfer student from the cooking club. I met you this year, and now we’re good friends. I trust you.” I looked at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze.

            “...You actually don’t remember me, do you?” The question made my features scrunch in confusion and as I turned my head up to look at him, everything hit me at once like a semi on the freeway.

            His hood upturned, his blue-teal eyes gleaming with hope. That messy hair. Californian sunny glow. His overall warm, sunny appearance.

            I fell backward, eyes wide, trying to scoot away from him. My heart pounded in my ears and my insides twisted and writhed as if the eye of the storm sat within me. Blue eyes, millions and millions of blue eyes, this whole time…

            The eyes watched. They judged, but not me. Others. Blue eyes that regarded me in such a manner that suggested I was a prize to be won--a stopper to fill a hole--more so than anything else. Eyes that pierced through my very being and had haunted my nightmares for the past several months.

            My childhood friend’s name, Dewayne Caerwyn, hit me like a bullet train all at once.

            Never had I learned to hate anyone more.

            “K...Keith...you…” The words turned to ash in my mouth. I felt like I was melting--not in relief, but in fear--the floor clung to my form, cementing and anchoring me from moving any further. Dewey--...no.  _ Dewayne _ didn’t seem to like this. The fear in my eyes. The absolute horror that was what he had done to my loved ones. His expression darkened, his brows set low and his chest puffing slightly in defiance.

            “I don’t see why you’re so hung up over him. He was going to ruin everything, Emi. He knew, and he was gonna snitch. You know what we used to say. Snitches get stitches, yeah? You used to be so strong, so impenetrable...you’ve gotten softer. That’s all the more reason to protect you.” He advanced forth and I felt myself hit the wall before I realized I had begun scooting back.

            “He was a boy!” I found myself screaming. He winced at my words. “He was--is--innocent! They all are! No one deserved this! You’re  _ wrong _ ! What the absolute  _ hell _ is wrong with you-?!”

            “There’s nothing wrong with me! It’s everyone else that’s wrong!” He crouched in front of me, gaze hard as if he were scolding a child. “Even if I am wrong, I’d rather be wrong than right. I don’t regret any decision I’ve made up to this point, not even...mom and dad…” My hands twitched in their position against the floor, my spine tingling against the plastered wall.

            “...What did you do to Mr. and Mrs. Caerwyn?” I managed to utter quietly, slipping back into English for the words “Mister and Missus.” Habits, it seemed, died hard. No matter what language, Mr. and Mrs. Caerwyn, who had come to be like extended family to me, would always be that.

            “I tried to find you. I tried so, so hard to find you when you left. The number your parents gave was wrong, and so I had to look. Mom and dad said I was becoming obsessive. They tried to stop me.” He carded a hand through my hair with a gentle expression and I let out a shuddery gasp, visibly shaking. This was, evidently, the wrong thing to do, but fear induced honesty. I couldn’t lie or pretend I was comfortable. Not when the world was crumbling beneath me.

            “...They were in the way, like Keith. Like everyone else. They had to go. It was...easy. Not mentally, but physically.” His eyes were empty--blank. I saw Thana in those eyes--if they were the same value as hers, they would’ve looked as dead as a shark’s. The tears welled in my eyes and I bit back a choked sob.

            “Emi,” his voice was soft, pleading. “Don’t cry. Don’t look at me like that. Just--trust me, ok? This can all end. I just need you to tell me the truth. I need you to just tell me, ok? Look--we can be happy. I came all this way, lied, stole, borrowed, and cheated my way to find you. Trust me.” Soft honey contrasted the black, oozing implications of his words. Say I felt a way I didn’t, lie about knowing who attacked my closest friends and killed one of my best students, and the rest would be spared. But at what cost?

            “I love you, Emi.” He cooed, pressing his forehead against my own. “I need you to love me, too.”

            Something cold, horrible, and bitter snapped in my chest. The words that haunted my dreams the night before filled my head, a loud crescendoing choir harmonizing in relaying the melodies and monodies of righteous judgment.

_             ‘This is not love.’ _

_             ‘This is not love, and if it is, I don’t want to love.’ _

_             ‘THIS IS NOT LOVE, THIS IS NOT LOVE,  _ **_I DON’T WANT TO LOVE, THIS IS NOT LOVE, T H I S   I S N O T L O V E - ’_ **

            “THIS ISN’T LOVE!” I screeched, lifting a foot to kick him square in the chest. As he fell back with a loud shout, I scurried up the stairs, him not far behind me. He recovered fast and pulled the bandana that rested around his neck over his nose and mouth faster.

            But I had the high ground. I slammed the door in his face and locked it, and he began screaming. He refused to say anything coherent, his voice seemed—

            My eyes trailed to my laptop, the live stream still running. Arre was trying to Skype call me. Besides the monitor, my charging phone showed that Rin was calling me. I picked up my phone and turned to the stream.

            “He’s here! Arre, call Ito! Hayashi, hell, call  _ someone _ just hurry-!” I tried to hang up on Rin and unlock my phone to call the police, but my fingers suddenly refused to cooperate with my shot nerves and the lock broke behind me. I whipped around to be met with Dewey tackling me, my back hitting the corner of the desk painfully. I let out a sharp cry, twisting in an attempt to scream while a familiarly warm liquid began to trickle down my back.

            “I know him! His name is-!” My voice was muffled as he pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his hand and shoved it into my mouth. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t breathe-!”

            I tried to kick him once more, but he had expected his. He pinned my legs under himself and I could tell from the crinkle of his eyes he was leering at me. He began to speak, but I decked him in the jaw and threw him off, spitting out his sleeved hand, only for his hands to rip through my hair, tangling in my messy tresses. I let out another scream and the dings of the YouTube comments rolling in by storm began to be infuriating. Slowly, be tried to drag me to the window. I knew what he was trying to do. If I wasn’t going to go willingly, he would take me by force.

            In a fit of desperation, reached for the only thing I could think of. In one rough, sawing cut, I snatched the scissors off of my desk and cut off the hair that he had such a rough grip on. With suddenly nothing left to hold on to, he tumbled backward into the window (but not breaking it, the lucky bastard) while I rolled forwards. I scrambled out of the roll to stand up, scissors and phone in hand. behind me, I heard a rough, mechanical crunch. There went my computer. I had the consciousness, in the back of my mind, to be slightly enraged.

            I scrambled down the stairs, my back bruised and bloodied, only to be blocked by a mass practically falling on top of me and blocking the only exit in the house that wasn’t a window, pinning me to the basement door.

            Without thinking, I raised the scissors to try and--I didn’t even know. Make him stop. All I wanted was for him to stop--but his hand clasped over my own roughly. He growled, looking disappointed and enraged. On some level, the truth of the matter came to mind--at this point, we weren’t people. We were creatures fueled by adrenaline to keep the one thing our minds decided was absolutely necessary, and to keep it by any means. My freedom versus his obsession. My willpower was strong...but his physical strength was stronger. He turned my hand in the rush of the moment and, with one desperately swift movement, jabbed the blade onto me. Below my right shoulder, above my ribs, away from my heart.

            The storms raged and on some level, I realized this, but the first recognizable thing was the instantaneous pain rippling through my chest, wrenching an agonized shriek from me. Dropping my phone, I felt blood immediately begin to trickle through my t-shirt. As if realizing what he’d done, Dewey’s eyes widened and he let go of my hand, taking a quick step back in panic and horror. Blue eyes mimicked pitch black shark ones. When had his eyes dilated so much? Memories of older pains rushed through me.

            “Stop making this difficult! I don’t want to hurt you!” He stood, seemingly petrified, not knowing what to do. Within a second, I opened the door behind me, slipped into the stairway (wincing at the sight of the blood I left on the door) and slammed the door shut in his face after swiping my phone. The door had no lock, so I didn’t have much time. I looked at the angrily buzzing object in my hand to find that Ito was calling now. Sliding my thumb across the bar, the call was answered as I tried to run down the stairs.

            “Ito, he’s in my house, he’s in my house, I’m bleedi-!” One misstep and I went tumbling. The phone flew from my grasp, hitting the wall with a rough thud, and I tried to move to catch myself, only to hear an ugly pop in my wrist. Blood on the stairs. The blades of the scissors digging into my shoulder further made me scream out. The door flew open behind me. Ito’s voice echoed from the other end of the receiver, screaming, demanding a reply. I did the first thing I could do and scrambled, holding my hand to the blades to avoid trailing any more blood.

            There were two doors in the basement. Two places to hide. The closet, or the guest room.

            While time slowed down, the decision became clear. There was no hesitation, only a game of how fast could I get to the bunker, injuries be damned, without him seeing me. I dove forward, scrambling, my (blood) free hand gripping the knob, throwing the door open, pulling myself in, and slamming it behind me.

            “Are you really  _ hiding _ from me, Emiri Shuisen?!” He bellowed, voice muffled and distorted from the bandana and closet door. My heart ringing in my ears, I struggled to open up the false back of the closet and undo the locked metal door of the bunker with the one hand struggling to not trail blood on the carpet, furniture, or anything else. If I trailed blood, I would be caught--he would find me, and it would all be over, even if I did have the bunker. He would know I was in there and no one else might. If his stalking habits had been anything to go by, he would stop at nothing to find the passcode or another way in. However, if I kept the blood in one place, if I erased all tracks of my escape, he would have no clue that there was even a bunker in the house. He would never know, and if I got in, I’d be safe, wait it out until-

            The bunker door unlocked right as the door to the guest room right across the hall from the closet slammed open. My heart still ringing, it took all of my willpower not to scream in fear and shock. Just by the stairs, I could faintly hear Ito (and Hayashi? Was that him, too?) shouting through the now-battered cell phone I had dropped. Not knowing what else to do, I slipped into the bunker. With the wall closed behind me and the entrance locked, I stood in the pitch-black room, the only thing stopping the blood from flowing from my shoulder the scissors still embedded there.

            He must have not punctured a vein, somehow. I was still breathing (while my breaths were shaky, unreliable, and haggard, I was still  _ breathing _ , damn it), and I knew enough biology to know that he had struck right between my subclavian and cephalic vein, just below my shoulder blade. I didn’t feel secure enough removing my hand, hoping that somehow I could staunch the blood flow and bandage my own wounds with the basic medicine that I knew from not only my dad, but bad cop shows, and previous health classes. Instead, I used my free hand to travel across the wall and find the light switch.

            Outside, Dewayne was bellowing louder than before. Slamming open doors, breaking things (that T.V. was expensive, that prick), throwing objects-- _ gutsy _ , angry things that normal people wouldn’t be able to do without leaving DNA evidence. But he was smart. He didn’t have those clothes for no reason. He bought them for this sole purpose, and by now, he had developed a way of getting rid of any evidence he’d gotten onto himself. The supported bunker walls drowned out most of the noise--so much so that it normally kept the bunker dead-silent. But his rage--his impulsive, cocky, uncharacteristic rage-- _ somehow _ bled through the door. I tried to drown out the noise as my fingers settled on a familiar switch.

            With a soft click, the world was drenched in soft, sleepy, blue-tinted fluorescent light. Supporting myself on the way to the bathroom in the bunker and clicking on the next light, I was finally able to assess the damage. The busy work, purely scientific, helped to tether my consciousness to my body as I numbly pulled out the med kit as silently as I could, finally letting my hand drop so I could peel my shirt off around the pair of scissors still lodged in my chest (ripping the hole the scissors had made in my shirt to tug the shirt around the scissors without disturbing them).

            I held my breath. If I whimpered, if I made a sound, he would find me. He would find me, and it would all be over. There were no eyes in here, but it was as if I had been drowned in their blue as the fluorescent bulbs washed over me. I missed the water. I missed summer. I missed Seskiel, I missed Arre, I missed Rin and Len, I missed Keith, I missed work and all of my lovely coworkers--

            I missed not being in immense pain every time I moved. I bunched up the shirt around the scissors and applied pressure, holding the scissors in place so that they didn’t move. Between my shaking hands and the shooting pain unlike anything I had ever felt in my life, so bad that I couldn’t even breathe enough to cry, I found it hard to stay awake. The room was spinning. You never think about how stab wounds feel--what it’s like to bleed out and be conscious. You see it in the movies and read it in books, but you never truly understand until it happens. The lines sound so stereotypical. The lines are true--you’ve just never felt it.

            Footsteps were distant above me. Lucidity was a foreign concept as hushed whispers and murmurs caressed my ears and trickled into my mind. There were more people upstairs--that was for sure. The police, most likely.

            Dewey was probably long gone.

            But I couldn’t bring myself to move. I could hardly stay awake enough to keep the pressure over the scissors lodged in my chest. The terrifying thought that maybe there was no need to lock myself in the bunker at all--that I could’ve hidden and waited for Ito and Hayashi to arrive, was mind-numbing. Fear and paranoia gripped my senses. While I might not have ever been able to escape Dewey, I could’ve at least been taken to the hospital. People would know where I was.

            I didn’t have to be another name on the missing persons’ list when, in actuality, I had died from bleeding out in my own basement. Not even the faint smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the walls and ceiling from dad’s days spent in here could comfort me.

            But I was still bleeding out. Fear didn’t stop shock or heal bruises. Nor did it stop blood from soaking through my ripped t-shirt. The cool blue of the fluorescent bulbs overhead, a bar hanging horizontally over the mirror, became aquarium lights as the bathroom of the bunker slowly began to fill with water. The pain became a distant memory as blobs of dark, freezing ink dropped from the ceiling, consuming and slowly filling my vision.

            The last thing I registered before the world went black was Arre’s muffled screaming outside.


	21. Chapter 20

            The fluorescent lights above weren’t the same as the ones I went to sleep under. My breathing was surprisingly steady as I opened my eyes, the white bulbs bearing down on me and humming with a quiet nervous energy. It felt like cotton filled my mouth--I couldn’t speak, but as I looked at the monitors around me on the bed, I realized I didn’t need to. The quiet beeps from the monitors reassured me that I was safe. I didn’t have to worry.

            Except, the pristine white curtained-off area didn’t look like the hospital I was used to.

            I tried not to jump, as my spine and chest immediately protested when I did so, when a woman slipped behind the curtain with a clipboard in one hand, a glass of water in the other. Her dark hazel eyes bore into me, matching dark bags falling underneath them. She would’ve looked much younger if it weren’t for those bags or the too-tight bun her dark brown hair was slicked into.

            “Glad to see you awake. Let’s get started, shall we?” She spoke in English and clicked a pen after handing me the glass, moving to sit beside me. I nursed the drink gratefully, feeling the cotton dissolve on my tongue. I was about to ask a question, but she soon cut me off. “I am Doctor Veronica Smith,” She began. “And you are currently at a testing facility. You were...in quite the predicament, as I’ve heard?” She looked to me for a confirming nod before scribbling down notes. She continued without much gusto--instead, her voice was dry and serious. Exhausted.

            “It was believed that you would do best in this facility rather than the regular hospital. It is our job to keep you here until we can assure that you will not endanger yourselves or others in the community.” That...admittedly stung. I winced, scooting back a bit further into the plush bed. “Don’t worry. None of this is your fault. We’ll get this worked out and you can go home soon, alright?”

            I gave a shaky nod and began to push myself up, hoping to stand. When Dr. Smith only moved to help unhook me from the machine and help me move without disturbing my bandages, I stood on shaky feet and began to walk with her. She showed me around the facility--where I would be rooming, the cafeteria, how she would check up on my injuries every day until I was healthy again, how I could contact my friends and family from the location without giving too much away, where the offices were if I ever needed to find her...even the facility gym and pool.

            It looked more like a cross between a laboratory, a military base, and a hospital.

            When she finally led me back to my room, I tensed when she locked the door behind me. She explained it was only for security measures--that later, I could go anywhere I wanted, but for then it was lights out.

            I almost screamed when I turned from the door only to find bright blue eyes staring at me.

            The scream was choked in my throat when my eyes trailed over the rest of her oh-so-recognizable features. My expression of terror melted into one of amazement and surprise.

            “...Rin..?” The blonde girl gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth before sending a grin to the boy dressed in black and red not far from her--unmistakably Len.

            “Len! The new girl already knows my name! Do you think Bestie told her?” She cooed, throwing her arms around me. I shifted uncomfortably in her hold--something wasn’t right.

            “N-No, Rin, it’s me, Emi--Y’know, we went to school together for three years? Japan? The Occult Club?” I tried to gently push her off. She looked confused for a split second before continuing to smile on as if nothing had happened.

            “Nope! I’ve never been to Japan...we’ve barely been outside of the lab before! You must have me confused for a different Rin.”

            “She’s pretty cute, though, don’t you think, Rin?” I let out a squeak and hopped away from Len, who had somehow ended up behind me in order to play with a few strands of my messy hair. He pouted and edged closer again, throwing an arm around Rin’s shoulder as she mimicked his action. “What’s your name, stranger?”

            “...Emiri.” I bit out, feeling dizzy. “My name is Emiri.” When had the room begun spinning?

            “That sounds like ‘Emily’ but with a really bad Japanese accent. What are you, a weeb? First the school, now thi-” Len started, but let out a yelp as I crumpled to the floor, groaning lightly. “Jesus! Being called a weeb won’t kill you, you know!”

            I couldn’t really do anything but groan in response. Rin sighed and pouted at Len.

            “Be nice! It’s her first day and she’s hurt. C’mon, girlie.” She cooed, kneeling beside me. I almost screamed when I felt the floor disappear under me, but Rin put a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

            “Calm down! You act like you’ve never seen powers before.” Len, behind her, scoffed. I was levitated onto the hard, cold bed on one of the bunks opposite to where the twins slept.

            “Bet she’s one of those ones that doesn’t know what she can do.” I shrunk under his scrutinizing gaze.

            “P-Powers? What? I thought this was a hospital--” Len snorted again.

            “Yeah, right. Hospital. You’re in a lab, sweetie, and you’re going to be experimented on for having powers.” He leered and I found the nerve to glare back.

            “This is the worst sci-fi novel ever. I’m going to wake up now.” Len rolled his eyes and glared, then. “You two are so stereotypical, you’re not even Len and Rin, you’re bootlegs. This is just a shitty dream-”

            “I’ll show you shitty dream you little-” His hand landed on my shoulder and a shuddering gasp of air filled my lungs. Every waking moment of my life, dreams included, played on repeat in the span of several seconds. I could barely register Rin yelling at Len, trying to get him to stop.

            His face scrunched up in confusion and horror when he saw himself through my eyes.

            And just like that, it was over. Reality set in once more.

            “...She’s not lying.” He sat down beside my feet, looking almost through me. I shivered as Rin frowned and sat next to my head, picking up some strands of my hair to start braiding it.

            “Huh. Weird! Sounds like you have an edgy backstory like most protagonists do.” I sputtered, eyebrows furrowing, still trying to comprehend what was going on.

            “I don’t have an edgy backstory! I have a loving family and nothing bad has really happened to me until right now! I mean--life isn’t perfect, but...I don’t...my parents are alive, I’m not some poor, tortured soul…” She shushed me, sending me a knowing gaze.

            “You should probably get some sleep.” She tied up the braid she finished. “You look kinda dead inside!” She grinned. Len looked as if he wanted to say more, but he stopped and his gaze fell.

            They didn’t have to tell me twice.

            Things soon became a routine in the...lab. I didn’t know where I was, or how I got there, or why I was there...every day, Dr. Smith ran tests on me (they seemed arbitrary and strange, but...rumors of disobedience and punishments dissuaded me from protesting) after checking on my wounds. I would eat with my new roommates in the cafeteria, afterward going to the gym to play games and talk, and quickly found that while they were the same people as my Rin and Len, they were different in little ways and those little ways were enough to make a world of difference. In reality, they were strangers with familiar masks.

            We seemed to gain and lose friends by the day, always flowing in and out and shifting. The tides. I missed the tides.

            I found myself remembering how much I missed the water--the beautiful, loving, forgiving waters of California, of my dreams, hell, I’d even settle for Japan at that point--one day while beginning a test that Dr. Smith had brought me in to do. She was trying to figure out what my ability was--or something. I didn’t believe I had one--and Rin and Len had decided to tag along for once.

            Things were ok. Rin was joking with Smith, “annoying” her by calling her “bestie” and Len tried to get their attention with joke flirts. It was my task, however, to move the block in front of me without touching it. Today, it seemed, was telepathy.

            The door burst open. My eyes recognized the figure immediately. Dewey. Fire.

            Dewey stood in the doorway, looking enraged. He was on fire. Smith’s eyes widened as she reached to pull the tranquilizer she kept on her persons at all times out. She was hit by a fireball sent by Dewey, knocking her back before hitting a wall with a sickening crunch, Len and Rin following not long after.

            I didn’t even realize I was screaming.

            He took steps towards me--closer and closer and closer and I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want him, I didn’t want to be there, I wanted to go  _ home _ , damn it. But home wasn’t safe. The Lab wasn’t safe, the school wasn’t safe, the hospital wasn’t safe--hell, I wasn’t even safe with Ito and Hayashi or Yuuto and his boys.

            The pressure built behind my head, rose in my chest, filled my very being with each and every step he took. There was a rushing in the walls that gave him a temporary pause before he deemed it unimportant in comparison to his goal.

            His mistake.

            “Stay away from me!” I shrieked, thousands of pipes bursting at once. The water extinguished the flames engulfing the room and pushed everyone in the room out, embracing me in a cool, loving touch. I missed the water. It missed me, too. As the rushing rapids flew by, slowly filling each cavernous room and drowning the den of rats, the water around me calmed and steadied. I was home. I was safe. The water was safe--the water was safe. It would always be safe.

 

* * *

 

            The fluorescent light was haunting to wake up to. For a second, I thought I was still in the lab--some darker, bluer, more claustrophobic version of it.

            The throbbing, horrific pain in my right shoulder told me otherwise.

            I let out a choked moan at the sight--the blades of the scissors were still sternly lodged in my shoulder, but the blood around it appeared long-since dried. I couldn’t even shake anymore--I was in far too much pain and far too conscious of the danger I was in--but I tried to gather my wits. It felt like low whispers surrounded me--occasionally the floorboards above would creak or I imagined I heard a voice. I tried to focus on this as I calmed myself, knowing how old the Hill House was and that, frankly, I hadn’t been very sane within the past few days anyhow.

            As far as I knew in that moment, it could’ve been auditory hallucinations from the blood loss. The noise was comforting, all the same, especially since none of the voices sounded like Dewey. I could almost imagine that I wasn’t alone, that people were looking for me, were worried for me, that maybe I was lucky enough that Dewey got caught. Despite being locked in a basement with a pair of scissors skewered through my chest, dangerously close to several major veins, it was nice to imagine.

            It was one of the first times I could remember every agonizing detail of a dream. What felt like months being poked, prodded, and pried at under a microscope de-escalated into a single night of monotonous hell that had exploded in an instant. It felt like watching a long, winding, hours-long fuse burn until finally reaching the explosives attached. My nerves were still shot from the impact of the explosion.

            When the room stopped spinning and it seemed my heart stopped hammering in my chest, I decided it was time to do the best I could for my scissors wound.

            (The hysterical thought briefly crossed my mind that I should name my scissors like the one guy did in the movie--you know the one...the volleyball one. Wilson. Remembering the brand of my scissors, I found myself melting into a giggle fit. Clauss. Clauss the scissors. I could work with that.)

            The amount of time it took to stand up was abysmal. I knew that I had already lost a lot of blood--removing the crumpled up shirt showed just how much that I had lost (not that I was an expert, but it looked like a bad movie scene where someone dies. That was never a good sign) and I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of losing more, but if I didn’t want to die horribly due to exsanguination (word of the day, God bless the dictionary that has a word for throwing people out of a window and dying from blood loss but not for  _ “day after tomorrow” _ ), I would have to do something.

            Using the wall as my guide and the furniture to hoist myself up, I found myself staring at the mirror and clutching on to the counter for dear life. I was not a pretty sight.

            I had my nights before where I had stayed up until four in the morning to cram for a test, only to wake up two hours later. I had days where I skipped lunch and dinner because I was doing work or too caught up in an activity that I’d simply forgotten. 

            This was worse. Under the haunting blue glow of the room that looked like it was almost underwater, the dark circles under my eyes, the ashen complexion of my once-brown skin, and the dried blood congealed around the handles stuck in my chest made me look like a zombie. My hair was uneven and mangled where I had lopped it off to get free of that bastard. The waves in the undulating light made me dizzy, like I was floating, and the cool surfaces were welcoming. Looking down at the offending item protruding from my chest, I felt my heart skip several beats. Fear.

            “...C’mon, Em,” I began, my voice gravelly and harsh. Cold. “Being scared was for yesterday. Today is for putting up your dukes and biting the bullet.” With a newfound determination that I  _ would _ survive this, damn it, I pulled open the mirror cabinet and grabbed the things I’d need. First aid kit, suture kit, hydrogen peroxide, bandages...Cotton balls wouldn’t be enough to cover in the hydrogen peroxide for the stab wound. I looked at the bottle in dread--the shirt was already too dirty to use, and my pants weren’t much better. The blankets in the next room were dusty, and I only had enough bandages to cover what I would need to.

            Gripping the shirt close to me, I knew what I had to do at that point. I pulled myself up so I sat on the counter next to the mirror, my back resting against the cabinets and bloody shirt in one hand. With the other, I slowly grabbed onto the scissors’ handle as the dread collected in the base of my stomach. Danger. This wasn’t safe. I looked at the door, hearing the voices and noises faintly echoing above.

            Nothing was safe anymore.

            The initial tug was the worst part. The dull pain immediately resurfaced and for a moment, I thought I was going to pass out and go into shock again. I grit my teeth, carefully and slowly pulling so that the wound wouldn’t be disturbed as much and so I could pull it out the same way it went in--without rupturing a vein. The dull edges of the scissors dragged against my flesh, leaving searing pain and an alien feeling and--

            The scissors were out. Bloody, but out. While I was bleeding again, it hadn’t done much in terms of damage. Most of the dried blood, while disturbed, stopped a lot of it. The water filling the room to the ceiling was calm--a reminder of where I was and that it would be ok.

            Slamming the scissors onto the counter, I grabbed the hydrogen peroxide, unscrewed the lid, and leaned back. Finding a semi-clean spot on the shirt, I bunched it up and bit down on it before holding the bottle over the wound and tipping the bottle forward.

            The shake-inducing pain filled me once more and I let out a horrified shriek through gritted teeth. It burned--it burned so fucking bad, I just wanted it to stop--the hydrogen peroxide fell from my hands and clattered onto the counter, spilling most of its contents.

            Cursing, I picked up the bottle before too much could spill and the near-noxious fumes filled the air. Setting it to the side, I reached with shaking hands towards the suture kit as I took deep, rhythmic breaths to steady myself. The kit didn’t take long to set up, but my violently trembling hands were stubborn and clumsy.

            I found that I felt too weak, too cowardly to run the needle through my chest.

            After a while, the burn of the hydrogen peroxide became a dull thrum and the fear of infection was stronger than my fear of the pain. It would sure as hell be worse later if I didn’t take care of it then. Taking another deep breath, I remembered what my father taught me when I was little--what I saw him do after a particularly nasty fight with someone somewhere for some reason. I had sat on the counter then, like I was now, watching him carefully pull the needle through his arm, my vision skewed by misty, teary eyes. I was scared then, too, seeing the blood and watching him get hurt. I remembered how he told me not to worry...that things got worse before they got better. That he was strong, and so was I, so we would always get better. I made him promise that we would help each other get better.

            Pinching the skin on both sides of the wound, I quietly stabbed the skin and pulled the needle through with tears running down my face, muttering the same words of assurance he gave to me so long ago. The knots were difficult with my stubborn fingers refusing to cooperate, but after every quadruple-knotted stitch, the desperation to get it done pushed me forth. Soon enough, the knots were cut short and the stitching was complete. Slathering some antibiotic cream over the wound and then applying the bandage over my shoulder, I found myself able to sit on the counter and breathe for a second. The bloody scissors sat beside me, medical supplies, blood, and hydrogen peroxide surrounded me.

            Sitting, just sitting, did wonders for my nerves. While the voices above buzzed through my head with the reminiscence of the life I lead before several months ago, white, blurry fish intermixed with black ones, flitting gently in and out of my vision. Spots. Something told me that wasn’t good.

            It was a while before the fish swam away and I was able to force myself to stand. The suturing had made my entire being sore, but it was better than having the exposed wound slowly congealing and the scissors digging further and further into me with every movement. Pulling myself off of the counter, I found the bloody shirt I had used earlier as a way to stop the bleeding and mopped it across the counter, cleaning up the hydrogen peroxide that wasn’t already staining me or my clothes. The suture kit was easy to clean, assemble, and put away again. The random bottle of pain pills I had found didn’t kick in immediately, but helped not long after I put the first aid kit away.

            The blue manufactured glow from above slowly, over time, became haunting. The color was too similar to the eyes that had haunted me for months. The voices began to vary. The voices were comforting, yes, but some of them began to be very...teasing.

            Standing in front of the mirror, I found that my skin was still an ashen almost-gray--that is, except for around my chest, where the irritation and bruising had colored my skin an analogous mess that was painful to look at. My eyes were bloodshot from the tears and my hair was in mangled, twisted, frizzy curls that made it look as if I had been rolling around in the forest for hours. My eyes slowly trailed over to the bloody scissors still sitting on the counter--the only evidence besides the bloody shirt, the blood on me, and the wound on my chest that anything had happened at all.

            Picking up the blades, I stopped for a second to stare at the reflection shown through my own blood.

            God, I was such a mess.

            Turning the faucet handle once more, I began to gently scrub away the blood with my fingers, careful not to cut myself on the sharp edges. Once the reddened blades returned to their natural cold silver, I lifted the shears to my hair and grabbed a strip.

            I might as well finish the job. Nothing was the same, anyways. If I was going to have a life like some stupid protagonist, I was utilizing the “Important Haircut” trope. I had split ends, anyways.

            I didn’t bother looking at the pile of hair that began building around me in a halo of change. Fish flitted through the pile of my hair. They wove through and around the remaining locks falling messily into place like an abstract puzzle.

            Once I was satisfied and my ragged curls brushed my shoulders, I found my way out of the bathroom and stumbled towards the kitchen. While it might not have been exact science, I knew that I hadn’t eaten in at least several hours and lost a lot more blood than one would during the average blood bank donation trip. No one (myself included) had ever thought it rational to stock fresh foods that easily spoil into the bunker, but by God, it was a bunker all the same. The best way to get at least a little bit of energy back was to eat.

            Whether I would be able to prepare a meal or not was a different question. It took a second to dig through the cupboards, but eventually, I was able to retrieve my prize. Bag of marshmallows (that brought back the strangest wistfulness--the twist of nostalgia in my gut almost hurt...at least, I thought it did. That might’ve just been the pain pills, though) tucked under my arm, I pulled off the pull-tab and grabbed a spoon, subtly debating whether I wanted to actually heat up the pre-cooked meal or not.

            The pain in my abdomen, laziness, and exhaustion overruled my desire for warm chili. Shuffling over to the bunks, I sat on the bed, back supported by the wall and under warm covers, and gently nursed my cold chili. The familiar taste soothed my nerves and made me melt back into the wall, eyes drifting shut in bliss. I was able to scarf it down quicker than I had realized and once the can was finished off, I set it on the shelf housing a lamp at the head of the bed and embedded into the wall like a cubby.

            The room only illuminated by the lamp, I opened the bag of marshmallows and ate several before sleep overcame me, bra be damned, as I clutched the bag of marshmallows close like a stuffed animal. The twist of pain the nostalgia brought had faded into a comforting throb that emanated from my heart.

            As the room faded to black around me in spite of the warm, fiery lamplight, I could swear there were blue eyes and ashen figures sitting just beyond the edges of the light.

            I missed the water.


	22. Chapter 21

            That night, the storm above raged on. It was everywhere--outside of the bunker, in the kitchen, in the bunk room, in my head. When I still possessed the motivation to do tasks and make it seem like I was busy--like I had some sort of normal routine still--I had tried to wipe the bloodstains off of my shirt. While it hadn’t done much, it was wearable again. I drifted in and out of sleep, though I couldn’t distinguish which state I was in. The pain in my chest never ceased, my heart beating like a steam hammer in my chest at all times of the day.

            Not that I could distinguish what time it was.

            There was never a need for a clock in the bunker. What’s the point of knowing the time during the end of the world? What was the point of buying a clock when I always had my phone on me and plenty of outlets for chargers? My fucked up sleeping schedule never helped, either. I never went to bed or woke up at a consistent enough time for me to be able to tell anymore. I woke up when I woke up. I slept when the pain became too unbearable before I could get to the pain medication or I got tired.

            There were only a few times I had left my bunk bed. The few times I did, it was to get food, bring a jug of water to my bed, use the bathroom, or change my bandages if they became too disgusting.

            Otherwise, I felt like a sleeping creature trapped beneath the ground like I had read about in so many fairy tales. Whenever I was awake, I was  _ awake _ . Every little noise above became apparent, every voice becoming a familiar echo in my subconscious, every creak of the old home ingraining itself in my mind.

            Each second was a day. A week. An eternity. I wanted to leave. I wanted to melt into the only vaguely comforting mattress and land on the beach in Santa Monica. I wanted to run through the streets of San Francisco, screaming vague lyrics with friends whose faces I barely remembered. I wanted to sit with my parents in their condo in Anaheim while dad played guitar and mom made enough puns that they became genuinely funny.

            There was so much wanting--never enough getting. So much I needed, but couldn’t get.

            The lyrics to a similar song stuck in my mind. Needing is one thing. Getting is another.

            Clanging. Guitar riffs, soft and harsh. Screeching noises under wistful choral laments. One of the few things that distracted me was the constant mental radio I had always kept.

            Something so familiar was comforting through the neverending hours away from the sun. At least it was safe there. That was all that mattered. All that mattered was that I was away. I couldn’t hurt anyone, no one could hurt me. To stand outside one’s virtue…

            I’ve been getting used to waking up here. Living in the currents you create. I try to follow you there. Summer’s on its deathbed. Have you noticed I’ve been gone? I’m holding my breath for you. I’m just a slave unto the night. Can we make this the end so I can leave it there? In a quiet kind of litany, she accepted some defeat. The soul afraid of dying that never learns to live. Give me something to remember. I’ll slip away into this sound. Maybe I’m the one who’s changed or the one to blame. If this is love I don’t wanna be loved. I’m out of my head, of my heart, of my mind. And even though a moment passed me by, I still can’t turn away. And we can’t fix it. I keep breaking down. In the end, it boils down to credibility. Something about you just makes me whole. Can somebody please, just, tie me down...or somebody give me a goddamn drink?

            I’m no hero and I’m not made of stone. 

            It was the loudest silence I had ever faced. Caught between psychosis, gradual blood loss, lack of sunlight, hysteria...time was suspended and so was I. 

            The world ended when a loud slamming noise resonated throughout the house.

            I let out a shriek, the noise startled out of me after millennia of haze.

            Voices outside. Loud. Loud, loud, loud. Scary. I had to get away-

            Another slam. The door. It was the door being hit. He knew. They knew. The world knew. I had to get away. I had to hide—

            Tugging. They were trying to get the door open.

            He found me. I did what I could and hopped out of the bunk, shutting off the lamp beside the bed to quickly shimmy into the space above the bed meant for storage. The adrenaline coursing through my veins overcame the aching protest in my shoulder.  Clashing thunder, stinging lightning filled the world around me.

            It didn’t take long for the door to click open. Inwardly, I chastised myself for leaving the puzzle containing the code to the door on my desk.

            I was going to die. I was going to die and it was my fault.

            But really, wasn’t it for the better?

            All I had done was hurt others. From Thana to Dewey, I had trudged through the year with a body count and disaster in my wake. I was a black sheep. An omen. Nothing had gone right. I had not only managed to fall behind in my classes, but I had managed to drag others down with me. I was a burden.

            In a cold, sharp moment of sobriety, I felt my body go limp on that shelf. I was better off there. I was better off getting kidnapped by a psychopath if it meant he left everyone else alone. I was better off starving to death in a bunker no one would ever find me in. In that moment, I felt that in the end, I was better off as just another name on another missing persons list, never to be seen again. In that moment, I was worthless. A waste of the air she breathed and the space she took. 

            The feeling settled into my gut as on the far end of the room, I saw shadows from false, fluorescent white bulbs. I vaguely recognized them as phone lights. A flashlight in the mix. Footsteps. Hushed voices.

            If it was him, he wasn’t alone. If he wasn’t alone, my fate was either certain or prolonged.

            “I can’t believe she had this down here,” Rang out a familiar feminine voice. “Did she even know?”

            “...She knew.” A quiet, masculine voice my heart jumped at to hear spoke. “...She told me it was here. I forgot.” Seskiel. Seskiel was here. He didn’t hate me, didn’t forget about me, went looking for me. I felt myself tear up. Rin. Rin was here. Who else?

            An annoyed huff rang out from behind them--I recognized it instantly. Arre.

            “I knew it was here, and so did Emi. This is an invasion of property--aren’t you supposed to stop people from breaking an entering?” A noncommittal huff answered Arre, prompting an angry growl from him. Beneath that, though, he sounded contemplative. He knew. He knew almost instantly I was here. Now it was a matter of him finding me.

            “This is crazy...I knew Emi was a weird supernatural lover. It shouldn’t surprise me that she was an apocalypse nut--” Len. Of course, Len would be here. He was cut off by a loud shushing noise.

            “Shut it. You heard that noise coming in. Someone’s here. It might not be Emi.” Ito. Officer Ito, hissing hushed whispers. The startling moments of sobriety shook me. Tears spilled down my cheeks and warmth filled my heart. They were looking for me. I wasn’t alone…

            “Who else would it be-” Arre’s growl was cut off by a quiet voice.

            “Sorry.” My heart dropped and my eyes widened. He was here. He was here and they had no idea who he was. They wouldn’t let him take me, right?

            They couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

            The rounded the corner where the bunks each sat and I lay stiff on the shelf above my nest, frozen like a deer in the headlights. I waited for a gasp of realization--a greeting--something, but there was only a soft intake of air from Officer Ito as he saw the remnants of my nest. Blood-soaked bandages I was in the middle of changing in a haze when they came in. An empty package of marshmallows that looked oddly wistful and haunting. Three empty cans lying by the dimmed lamp.

            “Someone’s here alright--and they’re hurt.” He whispered out. A sasumata (it looked unordinary, but the aluminum pole with a  gleaming crescent at the end was intimidating--shivers ran down my spine) gripped tightly in his hand, he had the sense to look in the individual bunks and shelves closest to him.

            “Emi?” I heard Dewey call out hopefully, a frigid trickle of ice running down my spine.

            “The bathroom...so much blood...this pill bottle is open but mostly full…” I heard Rin chime from the bathroom. I saw her and Len’s silhouette in the oceanic blue fluorescent lights. They almost looked angelic--though, most Anglo-Saxon blondes were considered to look that way when in the light. A quiet grunt of worry came from the kitchen. Seskiel.

            “Emi, stop being a bitch and come out already. You’re obviously hurt; you have to let us help you, you stupid-” Arre...never really changed, even in the worst of times.

            “Well, whoever they are, they better come out-” Ito froze when his eyes met mine in the third bunk. Silence sprouted between us as Dewey called out to Ito curiously, tension dripping from his tone.

            “...Shit…” He whispered, lowering his sasumata to reach up to me. Relief. I scooted towards the edge of the shelf wordlessly, allowing him to set his sasumata aside and grab my waist gently to help me down, not unlike he would a child. I would normally be offended but--the gesture was more comforting than anything. On shaking legs, I leaned against the partition between the bunks to help me stand, trying not to cry. Seeing someone after what felt like so long and the pain from my sutures was almost too much.

            Rin was the first to turn around and make eye contact with me. Her sharp intake of breath, her eyes traveling from my terribly choppy hair to the stab wound in my shoulder. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes but before she could be told off by Ito, she was already launching herself at me to bury her face in my hair, pull me close, and sob.

            Her shaking sobs jolted my form, shaking me from my temporarily numb stupor. Seskiel was next, Arre following after, scooping both of us up into a desperate hug. Arre had managed to worm himself between Seskiel and Rin almost territorially, clutching me. He ran his fingers through my hair, cursing. Muttering about how he’d have to fix it so it looked better. That short hair looked well on me anyway. What the hell did you do to your hair? More crying. So much crying.

            Why was I crying?

            Warmth. That’s why. It wasn’t a stifling heat like the pressure that came from Dewey. It was a glowing, loving feeling. The sun setting over the beach. Something that was worth leaving the water. They were why. Why I carried on, why I felt so strongly about Dewey, why I even bothered to get up in the morning after I left the hospital. The reason I pushed on.

            Ito, behind us, was slumped slightly in relief. Silently, he placed a hand on my shoulder.

            “Thank god, kid, do you have any idea how worried-” He continued to speak, but Dewey rounded the corner behind him, Len staring in slight horror at the scene before him. The blood. He was looking at the blood but Dewey--Dewey was frozen. Rin let go of my shoulders to look me over, gagging a bit when she saw the ugly stitches on my chest from the hole in my shirt left by the scissors. Seskiel was still held onto me protectively, face buried in my hair and hands clutching at my back while Arre clutched my hand as if trying to tether me. Dewey made eye contact, staring with a mixture of emotions that was hard to immediately decipher. Guilt. Fear. Joy. That crazy twitch in his eye that had been there the night he stabbed me was back with a vengeance.

            But he held back, allowing his features to stretch into an easy-going smile that only I knew was false. The only hint that anything was wrong was the nervous, rushed twitching of his eyes. Len, however, seemed to be the only to catch it. Hesitantly, he moved to step between Rin and Dewey.

            “-But we really need to get you to the hospital. Just what the hell did that guy do to you?” Ito’s hand stiffened on my shoulder, gently starting to push me forward. As Dewey took a step closer, I took a step back and tripped over Seskiel. It must’ve looked like an accident, that I was “too weak” to carry on, because Seskiel caught me with a furrowed brow and swept me off of my feet, moving to hold me in a princess carry.  Arre stood next to Seskiel protectively, looking more outraged by the second. While lucky to have such protective friends and family, I felt so small. “Jesus, kid, be careful.”

            “...You’ve been down here for a week. You missed the exams.” Rin’s voice was quiet, her attempt to comfort me nice in thought but lacking in any real substance. I said nothing in reply--only clung to Seskiel and Arre as if that would stop anything at all. So weak.

            “Your YouTube audience is worried,  _ Archy _ ,” Arre whispered, his tone taking on a teasing lilt. I suppose that was his way--he would force me to talk about what happened later, but for now, laughter was the best medicine. I almost smiled. I couldn’t.

            A few more words were said, but upon the realization that I wasn’t going to say or do much more than what I had, the group began to move upstairs.

            I didn’t miss the jealous, furious looks from Dewey. Not this time. Never again.

            As soon as the sunlight touched my head, an ear-shattering gunshot rang through the air.

            The next second, Ito fell over and a rough force met the back of Seskiel’s head. Rin was screaming.

            Seskiel began to fall, unconscious, and I was dropped from his warm. Rolling through the damp earth, I looked up to see Len screaming, eyes wide in horror and absolute rage at Dewey, who held a small handgun. Arre laid next to Seskiel, limp, the second victim to the butt of Dewey’s gun. Len tried to tackle him as the ringing shook my form, rendering the rest of the world silent. Almost in slow motion, another ring sounded through the forest as a bullet lodged itself in Len’s shoulder. With a gurgle, he tried to go at Dewey but crumpled. Rin was still screaming, sobbing and holding onto Len as if he was her lifeline. Her phone was in her opposite hand, but Dewey was already starting to walk towards me.

            I did the only thing I thought of and scrambled to my feet to run.

            If anything, the ambulance would have an easier time transporting people without a psycho trying to kill everyone.

            Memories of Thana chasing me ran through my mind, pushing me forward. The pain was so strong now--how on earth was I able to run so long? How did I get to the roof of the building? How wasn’t I dead yet?

            I was lucky he didn’t want to hurt me.

            Unfortunately, Dewey knew the woods well. Even while he did, I was lucky that I knew them better. Years of running through the woods with Dad on visits to Grandma’s house made the supposedly haunted woods a familiar, comforting sight. Past old trucks left abandoned and the trees growing through them, past the old remnants of what Dad had always thought was a home or small temple, through the thicket that always grabbed at my hair (cut short, it missed me this time), sprinting across the old, rickety stone bridge that always threatened to collapse at any second. The stone path trail had long since faded to dirt, the substance covering my legs as my bare feet dug into the earth so that I would have the footing to escape. As I ran, the fish from the bunker returned with a vengeance. Little black and white potted darts of panic and pressure.

            That was all I had to do. All I had to do was escape. Lead him away from my friends while also avoiding being kidnapped or killed. Adrenaline had never been a better friend.

            True fear began to set in when the old bluff came into view. The old bluff--the place Dad, against literally everyone else’s better advice--took me to dive off of the cliffs with him, into the dark water below. Waterfalls flowed freely across the way, pouring water from the river not far into the large lake with a runoff that would lead to the beach and eventually the ocean. It wasn’t uncommon for people in the past to jump in it, as my father had so long ago, but it also wasn’t uncommon that people died trying to dive into it.

            The large rocks on either side of the path told me I had no other place to go. I had cornered myself between a psychopath and a suicide jump.

            I stopped at the cliff’s edge, staring down at the rocky rapids below.

_             “The trick,” _ Dad had always said,  _ “Was to jump far. If you jumped far and made it away from the rocks, this place was perfect for diving. Too many idiots don’t look before they leap.” _

            The sobering thought reached me as Dewey skidded to a stop behind me, gun held to my head. I didn’t want to die.

            “Emi,” His voice was pleading. Too sweet. Too insincere. “Please, can’t we just work this out? I really, really don’t want to hurt you again, but if that’s what it takes to make sure you stay safe, with me…” I whirled around to glare at him.

            “ _ Protect _ me…” My voice was foreign even to myself. The gravel in my voice made me sound much older--much more hateful than I had ever considered myself. Bitter-sharp iron and cold. “You.  _ You _ want to protect  _ me _ ?!” I shrieked, fear turning to rage in mere seconds. How dare he? How  _ dare _ he force me into hiding, push me to my wit’s end?

            “Yes,” He reached up to try and cup my face with his free hand. “Emi, I love-”

            He didn’t get to finish his sentence before I shoved the gun away and my fist collided with his jaw. Dewey let out a cry of pain, but I didn’t let him go. I kept punching, slapping, anything I could do to just make him  _ stop moving _ . I wanted it to stop--I wanted everything to stop--I wanted him to stop.

            In defense, he had let go of the gun and began wrestling me back. His fingers jerked upwards to dig into my stitched wound and push me over, pinning me to the ground. I kicked, thrashed, screeched,  _ resisted _ with every fiber of my being to get away from him. I managed to crawl away, my chipped fingernails digging into the soil below me and clawing at the earth to wretch myself free. When I turned to find a now-bruised Dewey digging through the ground to follow, I kicked at his face, moved to pin him, and the cycle started anew.

            I couldn’t think. I didn’t dare breathe. I wasn’t alive--I was a juggernaut of a force with only one prime objective: to live freely. While blood flowed more freely from my chest, while my eye began to swell from bruising, while the innumerable cuts and bruises and cracks and aches spread across my entire being, embedding an angry exhaustion into my very bones, I couldn’t feel it. Sound was meaningless. My vision was spotted with the same black and white fish flitting with panic and fear in and out and around and around and around.

            Any second, I was going to burst.

            He had finally pinned me down again, managing to finally grab my arms and hold me down. With his leering grin, he took several deep breaths despite my thrashing. Seeing how, for the moment, I couldn’t move, I laid stock still, glaring at him.

            “It’s going to be ok.” He leaned closer. My heart rate began to rise once more. “Because I love-”

            With a shriek and all of my body weight, I threw him off of me.

            I had failed to notice how close to the edge I had gotten in our scuffle. With a shout, he tilted over the edge and grabbed the edge of the bluff, eyes wide in fear. I sat for a second, staring in shock, before jolting forward and grabbing his arm.

            The intensity of the moment lead me to forget just who he was for several seconds. What he had done. Though, even if I were in the right state of mind, I would’ve dived to grab him. Otherwise, he’d have died. Death, at this point for him, was the easy way out. The police had yet to take him into custody, and that alone was never enough.

            “Emi, please-!” He yelled out, warmth in his eyes. The fact that I helped him was enough for him. The feeling, along with the realization of what I was doing hit me and in a brief moment of panic, I tried to jerk back, but he still clung to me.

            I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough after everything to pull him and myself up.

            My bare feet dug into the dirt, trying to pull back. My arm socket was screaming in pain, begging me to do something as I neared the edge of the bluff.

            I wouldn’t survive the fall if I wasn’t careful.

            Using the last of my strength, Dad’s words ringing in the back of my mind, I reeled back.

            “Yeah, keep going, Emi! Please, you’re so strong, I know--What are you--?!” He screeched as I flung myself over the edge as hard as I could. Going over his head. Pushing away from him as he tried to pull me into an embrace as we fell. Time slowing down as we descended, bodies spread apart as if we were skydiving.

            I saw him hit the rocks with a sickening crunch before I hit the water.

            I saw his limp form hanging from a large boulder whose edge peaked out of the surface of the currents. His feet hung loosely into the water, one of his shoes missing. Blood spilled into the pond from the boulder.

            I was lucky. I winced as one of the rocks hit my feet, a loud crack resonating through my core, but I was too tired to feel pain. I heard screaming overhead, my name being called somewhere, sirens growing near despite the foliage overgrowth.

            The cool water, despite the blistering summer haze above, washed over and filled my wounds. While my blood dyed the tides red, the water stung my wounds. If it stung it was getting better. The healing stream flowed through me as my heart beat to a rhythmic fashion in my head. A familiar melody with twanging acoustic guitars, vocals all hopefully melancholy as it encouraged his friend to keep going. The day will come where you can’t cover up what you’ve done. It filled my lungs and my head, and suddenly the monochromatic fish flitting in and out of my vision felt more at home. More screaming. A head of bleached blonde hair connected to a blurry figure dressed in black appeared under the glow of the submerged sun as the world began to darken.

            I missed the water.


	23. Chapter 23

            I wasn’t annoyed by the noises of construction that woke me up.

            The noise had become a small comfort--a reminder that a new day had come. After two months since life came to a grinding halt, the little things became the most important. Opening my eyes, the rich, deep, now-spruce-blue walls washed over me. A reminder. Sitting up, I stretched and ignored the stagnant pile of hospital patient bracelets that once upon a time was growing taller and taller. Looking at the still-rising sun that shone through the new stained glass windows across from my bed, my toes touched the floor and dug into the soft beige carpet.

            Five in the morning wasn’t a bad time to wake up, summer break or not. While noon was my personal preferred time to wake up, it seemed as if vague nightmares I had no recollection of in the morning had other plans. It had been like that lately--after getting out of the hospital, barely alive, and after having made up my exams--I found myself surprised I hadn’t woken up earlier.

            It had become a habit to stay up and memorize the stars rather than go back to sleep.

            Padding across the room, I pulled a leather-bound journal with thoroughly yellowed pages from my shelf and began to write. The therapist I had then recently started seeing told me that journals helped. Struggling to find room to talk about yesterday amongst the scattered music notes and doodles. After the page was filled, I slid the journal neatly back into its place.

            Moments later, I sat with my cello clutched tightly, fingers sliding across the smooth strings gracefully and bow gently sawing.

            People were happy to see me back on YouTube again. The few people that consistently watched my videos were relieved that I hadn’t been killed or kidnapped; after the stream two months ago, my channel had gone viral since it caught “a tragedy in action.” Statements were given for the sole purpose of trying to seem relevant and in the know. Miscommunications happened--in the end, I made a video explaining what happened. In the end, the temporary boost of followers I got after the “tragedy” had started to go down--not that it really mattered.

            I didn’t need people in my life who were just there to watch me drown in strife. I had enough people who loved and appreciated me. And enough reminders to not be stupid and take on literally every responsibility in life without telling anyone.

            ...Yeah. That had apparently warranted several hour-long rants from various people, my own boss included.

            In the middle of putting my bow and cello away, mind lost on thoughts of Akari, Mr. Nakamura, and Mai, when the door cracked open a tad. Resisting the instinct to wince, I took a deep breath and cast a glance towards the door.

            “Hey, we didn’t think you’d be up this early, but we heard the cello...Thought it best not to disturb you until you were done.” Seskiel poked his head in, slowly opening it and approaching to watch me heave up the cello case and put it away. “Rin and I made breakfast...Arre gave us moral support by describing how he could do it better.” The dark-haired boy deadpanned. No matter what self-improvement methods he was trying to seem more open about his feelings, no matter what type of personality-changing, chi-inducing exercises he was trying in a given week, something about Arre just always seemed to grate on him. It was more amusing than anything.

            Smiling, I stood and padded over in my pajamas.

            “Of course he would. He’s Arre, remember? I’m just surprised he came to breakfast at all…” I trailed off, eyes narrowed at the ground. “Everyone is still good for today, right?”

            “As far as I know. Len would’ve come, but he’s too busy terrorizing Vie and the new kids.” I found myself scoffing and rolling my eyes at that.

            “Of course he is. I heard they were cute. For Len’s own good, though, I hope he stays away from Rory.” There was a solemn nod of agreement from him.

            Treading downstairs, I felt myself relax a bit more as I was met with the image of Dad and Arre arguing over something or other while Mom told Rin the worst of her joke arsenal. The blonde looked caught halfway between cackling and groaning.

            “What’s shakin’, bacon?” I bumped my hip against Mom’s as I entered, looking at the food laid out.

            “An egg-cellent breakfast.” She winked and I giggled despite myself.

            “How could a professional comedian come up with such grating material?”

            “That was a cheesy stretch, even for you, sweetheart.” She pecked the top of my head before setting a plate in front of me. “We’re eating in the living room...I knew we should’ve expanded the kitchen.”

            “We agreed not to alter the house too much,” Dad halted his argument with Arre to shoot a pout at Mom. “It’s a good house, Ro…”

            “And I thought we agreed that you should add Emi to the label! My brand, specifically. We’re practically siblings-!” Arre huffed, crossing his arms.

            “Only if she wants to join, ya little heathen-”

            “Dad, Arre, it’s fine--I’m focusing on different classes, remember-?”

            “My little girl, leaving the industry I love so much-! Going against her own flesh and blood in the hopes of stopping low-life criminals like I once was-!” He cried dramatically, striking a pose.

            “Don’t let the media hear that, Kazuo,” Mom deadpanned, “Or they’ll have a field day.” A roll of Dad’s eyes and suddenly Mom was dragged in, apparently deciding that this time, she would tag-team with Arre.

            As I filled my plate and lead Rin and Seskiel to the downstairs living room, I couldn’t deny that I felt myself shiver. Mom and Arre weren’t a good mix in a debate. The ex-lawyer-turned-comedian and the pop star used to dishing out insults were not a good combination--at least, not for anyone that defied them.

            It wasn’t long before the TV was on, the vivid colors portraying some sort of vintage drama about cyborgs and people with unique powers in the future. Not long after, the trio of three trailed down from upstairs, plates toted with them. Sitting on the floor with my back against the full couch, I found the conversations around me unwinding into a comforting lull. I jumped, however, when my name was called. I looked up to my smiling mother, who gently repeated herself.

            “I asked, ‘how are you feeling about senior year?’ You seem very solemn. We can always go back to the States if you want, sweetheart-”

            “I already told you,” I began, plunging my spoon into my rice. “I’m staying here. At least, for now. I’m taking classes this year so that I can be set on the path of becoming a lawyer, detective, or criminologist. Besides...I can’t leave with the project going on. We even volunteered to help out today.” Spooning the rice into my mouth, the small portion was gone not long after.

            “I think that it’s a pretty cool idea,” Rin chimed. “It’s a fitting career path. Plus, I think it’d be kinda funny.” Dad sent her a quirked brow at that and she embarrassedly fumbled to explain, “Funny because such a tiny, cheerful girl is gonna take down big bad guys. It sounds like something out of a T.V. show…” Mom shook her head, laughing her characteristic bright, airy laugh that seemed more like a faerie’s. Half of my marmalade yogurt oatmeal was already gone. 

            It had been like this for a while. Mom and Dad, as soon as they learned the news, had gone against Grandpa’s warning and packed up their belongings to move into the downstairs guest room of the Hill House. While I still had a year before I headed off to college, my parents were more than happy to take some of the responsibility that I’d piled onto my shoulders off. With Dad working from home and Mom focusing more on the economic side of the record company, I found myself utilizing the opportunity to collaborate making videos, songs, and vlogs with them as I recovered more and more. Our interactions had drifted into a comfortable once-unused mechanism whose gears churned and spun in time, a rhythm that may have been forgotten but spurred on once more.

            Even Arre spent more time having sleepovers with me than he did at his own house (though, he did try to insist on moving the family interactions to his home more permanently several times). These days, there was always someone in the Hill House, whether it was a family member (Arre’s mother visited several times...the ensuing quarrels between Dad and Auntie were always hilarious), a friend (Yuuto and his boys had been  _ very _ eager to talk to my dad while waiting to “check up on me”), or a politician visiting the area for the sake of the media.

            After all, the campaign I initiated to clean up the Hollow Hill area and make it into a national park had received quite the attention from nearby white-collar emperors and political domineers.

            The construction noises outside for making pathways and small buildings for the park had been going on for a week, then. They had begun building the park with no official name yet because I had insisted upon the name Hollow Hill National Park, while several of the sponsors who wanted to help felt that it was too creepy--a name that tied back to the forest’s mysterious reputation of being haunted.

            Of course, that was even more of a reason to be insistent upon it.

            Eventually, though, Chuku no Oka Park (Hollow Hill Park) was the decided title. The name held so much recognition and history that it was practically impossible for the hesitant sponsors to argue.

            As I put my dishes into the sink, beginning to do dishes, I thought about the service project we had decided to do. As the park was near-completion, we decided to bring in volunteers from the community to help decorate the park and clip weeds and invasive species that had sprung up over time due to neglect. My small group of friends had agreed to help, as well as the kids from the Martial Arts club, the remnants of the Occult Club, the Cooking Club, the Drama Club, and the Gaming Club (I had recently made friends with the irritable, antisocial leader of the club after relating over favorite games and helping him clean himself up). The clean-up was going to begin not far after that time if the old clock in the kitchen was correct.

            As Seskiel dried the dishes I had cleaned, I ran upstairs with Rin so I could get dressed and lend her some sturdier hiking shoes since most of hers were mostly aesthetically-based rather than “how-many-jungles-can-I-walk-through-before-my-shoes-die”-based. As soon as we made it down the steps, Arre linked his arms with mine and Rin’s, leading us outside with my parents and Seskiel not far behind. Apart from the sound of machinery, birds, and distant water, the walk was quiet under the warm sun.

            There were still eyes in the trees bearing down upon me. There had been, still, but it was easier to ignore them as time drew on. There were no more malevolent eyes or jeering ones--simply blank, curious ones that ignored me and instead, traced the lines between the trees, the ocean in the far distance, and the sky. They were a reassurance these days--a thing I saw to signify that I wasn’t dreaming and that I was instead awake and alive. They weren’t blue anymore, though. Mixtures of greens, browns, and yellows flitted and darted back and forth between the leaves. Familiar. Comforting.

            The earth was soft under our feet as we trekked to the entrance of the forest; it had rained two days prior and normally would’ve dried up by then, but the shade of the trees overpowered the sun’s heat. At the entrance of the forest, my eyebrows shot up in surprise.

            There were people there, of course, but many more than I had expected. Len, a sheepish Vie, the club members, Himari, and several people I didn’t recognize milled in front of the overhanging branches, caught in their own conversations. Judging by their appearances, it would seem as if Len had managed to ring the foreign exchange students into the project. My features lit up, donning a warm smile at the sight of them.

            “Hello, everyone!” They paused their conversations gradually, looking towards me, some in surprise (and forcing themselves to look down due to my height, the bastards). “Welcome! I assume Len, Arre, or I managed to somehow convince you to work your butt off for a day to help us make a radical park here?” I unlinked my arms with Rin and Arre to step forward, holding a hand out to the first person I saw. The pink-haired girl squeaked lightly in pleasant surprise and grabbed my hand with vigor, shaking it.

            “O-M-G, like, yeah!” She cried in English before remembering herself and blushing while an auburn-haired male next to her scoffed. “I mean,” She began again in Japanese, “Yes! We’re all really excited! The project looks really cool!” I nodded, grinning (and partially happy to have another person my age and height working with me). “I’m Margaret Howard, but that name is totally lame. Call me Maggie!”

            “Alright, Magpie,” I began, finding myself liking this girl already. I had the feeling then that we would be very good friends. “My name is Emiri Shuisen! You all can call me Emi,” I ignored the grumble of vague disapproval at ‘acting so close so fast with first names’ from Seskiel and beamed. “Why don’t we get walking to the site while you all introduce yourselves?”

            Apart from the club members, I had learned that I was right about my assumption for the exchange students with the exception of one. The exception being a taller, grumpy British boy named Charles, who had apparently just become my closest neighbor beside Seskiel and wanted to get to know his neighbors a bit more despite his standoffish personality. As for the exchange students, Rory Clives was a boy that I automatically knew Yuuto’s boys would get along with, Kenta Moore was the one person Rory seemed to warm up to (besides Maggie and I...though, he, Arre, and Charles seemed to act like cats and dogs) as he was so friendly, and Reese Harrows tried flirting with just about three people before he finally got to me, seemingly enjoying doing so as a joke (not that I minded--he was quite the looker).

            From there, I announced a list of projects that we would be doing for the day. From getting rid of old tree stumps to planting new trees to helping the official work team get rid of invasive species of plant to planting beds of flowers, the group seemed surprisingly excited to help out, Rory helping hype the project with daring claims of making the best park ever.

            Maggie split off with Rin, Himari, Arre, and the Drama Club kids to help with flowers. Seskiel, Rory, Kenta, Len, Dad, Takahashi, and the Martial Arts Club kids went off to go remove tree stumps. Vie, Charles, Reese, Mom, and the Cooking Club trailed off to go plant trees with the already-enthusiastic remnants of the Occult Club, Mom probing Charles the whole way about what life was like in Britain and if he knew such-and-such. The Gaming Club kids, who had just then arrived, went to go hand out supplies and manage them.

            That left me, looking out over the now-cobbled path at the three sites. I felt a sense of pride in my chest--I had organized this, all while “recovering.” It felt good to be productive and work. To not be useless. But it was a hollow feeling--that all the while, despite organizing and campaigning and researching and planning, I still felt like a bystander.

            I had felt like that a lot after Dewayne died.

            I had no place. Realistically, if you had asked any professional when I wasn’t in the room, I should have been dead for two months by then. The first month hadn’t been much different than when Thana first tried to attack me: I would lay in my bed, memorizing the textures, the colors, the vivid fear the color of my own bedroom walls and ceiling brought. I didn’t eat as often as I should have and had gotten much skinnier over time. I only drank water when the headaches were too much to bear for just laying down and feeling empty. I didn’t speak to anyone besides Ito and Hayashi, where I would only describe what had happened in the week I had been missing. It was four weeks before I was able to snap out of the spell I had been imprisoned under.

            It took four weeks to stop being a ghost in my own house. Four weeks of my parents worrying, my friends trying to prod me every day for something--anything. Four weeks I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but scared and empty. Resigned.

            It took a long time to convince myself that I shouldn’t have been dead. That someway, somehow, I was alive and it was for the better. But it wasn’t easy. It was only two weeks ago that I forced myself to get up and start acting like a normal person, and there were still days where I couldn’t move--that all I wanted was to lay down and rot in that room.

            It took a lot of convincing and acting to pretend like everything could be somewhat close to normal again. Though, really, it would never be. Whenever I saw the remnants of my friends the next year, there would be faces missing. People I had invested so much of my life and soul into that would just be gone.

            I didn’t belong there.

            Where I belonged was in that stupid pond-

            I jumped when a hand caught my shoulder. Looking over, I gave the tall bleached blonde a warm smile.

            “You scared me, Yuuto...you’re late, y’know.” I chimed, brushing a short stubborn strand from my face and silently praying he wouldn't see through the sudden facade. Judging by his stern scowl, that was unlikely.

            “You were drifting again,” He began, moving to step beside me as he motioned for the rest of his boys to go uproot stumps with Dad, which they were more than happy to do. Trailing after them, Hayashi was dragging Ito along, scolding him for his attempts to work despite his injuries, only pausing in his tirade to send Yuuto a hesitant glance. After a nod from Yuuto, he began to move again. “I’m no expert at this type of shit, but standing here doing nothing isn’t what a junior politician does.”

            He held back a chuckle when I punched his arm.

            “I’m not a politician, ass,” I grumbled, beginning to walk off.

            “Oh, yeah, right, forgot that you wanna be a goody-two-shoes like big brother-dearest.” He smirked, moving to follow me.

            “I heard that, Yuuto! Watch your ass!” The blonde blanched, walking after me a bit faster practically with his tail between his legs.

            “Sorry, Haru! You know I love you, yeah?” He called over his shoulder, letting out a sheepish laugh when Hayashi grumbled back an empty threat, too busy trying to get Ito to stay in a chair.

            “I’m glad you brought the boys,” I began, opening the door of the house to make drinks for the people working. “I was surprised we got so many people to help out...though, it probably helps when Arre  _ and _ Len are recruiting.”

            “Doesn’t hurt to mention that the White Dragon will be there in person.” He shrugged, scowling as he wordlessly took a place to set out cups so I could pour the drinks. “You’re trying to change the subject, though. You spaced out pretty bad back there. You looked like one of those crappy anime characters when they die and their eyes go blank.”

            Trying not to snort at his, I shook my head.

            “I was just lost for a second. I didn’t know what I wanted to do since there were so many people already…” The kitchen was filled with silence as we worked.

            “You were thinking about that guy again, weren’t you?” He looked at me with his brows set low over his stacked cups. Looking at him, I knew there was no way to get past him. Not after everything. I visibly deflated, the nervous tension leaving my shoulders to sag in exhaustion.

            “...I’ll get better about that eventually. I just have to keep working and keep my head up.” He stopped me from pouring the next drink, looking serious.

            “I know you’re all determined and shit,” He began, “Just...don’t do anything stupid. I know that look. If you off yourself after I saved your ass, I’ll be so pissed. I will literally defile your grave and ruin your funeral. I’ll destroy your books and hack your accounts. I’ll do something. I don’t know,” He grumbled, sitting out the rest of the cups.

            I could only stare dumbly before I burst out laughing. He jumped, looking at me startled.

            I had only learned afterward that he was the one that jumped the bluff and pulled me out of the water. Turns out, he had been waiting outside for his brother and saw the whole thing, chasing after Dewey and me when I ran. He refused to let me thank him, saying it was only keeping a promise. We had been better friends since then--keeping an eye out for each other despite our circumstances--despite my emptiness and his delinquency.

            “You think,” I managed between cackles. “That I’m allowed to die any time close to now?!”

            “W-Well, I-”

            “Buddy,” I leveled, shoving his shoulder lightly. “If you think you’re gonna fight my ghost if I die prematurely, you’re gonna have to get in line.” I grinned, picking up a box lid to carry the drinks in. “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

            He seemed surprised at that before his lips quirked upwards in a smirk once more, copying my actions and picking up another box lid.

            “Heh, yeah. I knew that. I meant don’t get into any stupid fights. I know you’re tough, but I don’t know if you’re quite as tough as me yet.” He hefted the lid up, moving to carry the drinks with me.

            “Oh? Is that because I’m a girl?” I playfully tossed back, beginning to hand out drinks.

            “Oh, god no. Definitely not. I know several girls who could kick my ass, your mom and Himari included.” He blanched at the thought, sheepishly smiling at my mother when he handed her a drink (which she accepted with a bit too much satisfaction on her face). “Speaking of, I think you need to give Himari a definitive answer of whether you want to date her or not,” He cast a look over to the pouting girl, who seemed to only be content with not trying to make her way over to me because she was letting Maggie and Rin play with her hair. “I think she thinks that I’m competition, and not that she’s Dewey or Thana levels of crazy, but I’m pretty sure it might look like a shoujo anime love triangle if you don’t pick someone to date already.”

            “What if I don’t  _ want _ to date anyone?” I whined, handing a drink to a sheepish Takahashi. “I’m a spooky ghost who is lucky to even be here, it only happened two months ago, let me breathe!” Ignoring the confused look Reese sent, I stuck my tongue out at the blonde. He only rolled his eyes in response as Rory forced himself in front of Charles to grab a cup first. The boy gasped in outrage when Charles tried to swipe at him and I grabbed Rory’s wound fist, glaring at him, shaking my head to signal the cease-fire. When the Brit began to growl in irritation, I merely patted his shoulder and handed him a cup as a peace offering.

            “I like that kid,” Yuuto noted noncommittally, sending Rory a sidelong glance. “He’d get along well with us.”

            “Violent with tendencies to bother others for the sake of starting fights? Petty? Sounds about right,” I snickered as Hayashi nodded approvingly from his spot next to Ito, taking cups for Ito and himself. Yuuto sputtered, shaking his head in indignation.

            “What?! I have more pride than that-”

            “Sure, pride, as in vanity…” I poked his cheek and moved along, going to visit the group with Dad and Yuuto’s boys while Yuuto sputtered again and ran to catch up with his box lid.

            “Hah! You think those Yamamoto High boys got jack on us?! You should’ve seen ‘em back in the day! Buncha whiny, cheating crybabies is what-Oh, hey, sweetheart,” Dad paused in his storytelling to brush his gloved hands off and pull me into a one-armed hug. “Are these the boys who’re in my fan club you mentioned?” He winked and chuckled. In response, I rolled my eyes and smirked at the group of awe-struck teens.

            “Yep. They helped me a bunch. They even...held back some bullies that tried to beat me up.” They looked at me in surprise, Koizumi about to speak up before I continued. “At least, they helped distract them long enough for me to beat the crap out of them.” Dad cackled, threatening to pick me up in amusement and pride.

            “Aha! That’s my girl! They told me they gave you a little nickname too, Mizuchi. Seems like you’ve made it into the delinquent hall of fame. Don’t tell your mom, or she’ll get jealous of how much like your old man you’re turning out to be.” I wriggled free of the impending noogie he threatened to throw my way and nodded, laughing along.

            “Of course, Dad...though, I think I’d probably take after Mom in that I could probably kick your ass, too,” He blanched before chucking sheepishly.

            “Your wife can kick your ass?” Mori raised a skeptical eyebrow and Dad shook his head awkwardly.

            “Yeah--that’s kinda how we met, kiddo.” After a chorus of confused exclamations, he was able to quiet the boys and get them back to work with the promise of another story. “So, I got out of this podunk town to go to America for college, yeah? Well, I was trying to assert myself as an authority at the campus when all of the sudden this sporty chick suplexes and then body slams me right in the middle of me trying to intimidate some other freshies. I knew right then that she was the most gorgeous and badass woman I would ever meet…”

            “Jeez-I kinda imagined him to be more...like...a quiet kind of badass, y’know? Like those edgy, hardened detective types…” Laughing, I punched Yuuto’s side lightly.

            “Only when he’s at work. He’s a big softie when he’s around people he likes and trusts. Just be lucky you guys made a good impression so quickly.” He made a soft, noncommital confirming noise as he wordlessly followed me to hand out the rest of the drinks.

            And so it went--I, like Ito, and Len--wasn’t allowed to do too much work or “exert myself” due to my injuries, though I protested and did as much as I could anyway, handing out drinks and food and making sure to answer questions or keep people on track (mostly dad and Yuuto’s boys). Yuuto stayed with me throughout the majority of the time, tense as if he were standing guard. Himari joined him s soon as she could get away from her group, linking arms with me protectively as we wandered through the park site.

            Eventually, when the day wound down, Dad went back to the house to set up the grill and make typical American cookout food, as according to him it seemed the only thing that was appropriate anymore after a long day of working outside. I sat on the front porch, then, Yuuto and Mari on either sides of me and Seskiel sitting directly behind me, playing with my hair and sending disapproving looks to someone every now and then. The circle was full of people chatting and joking while Mom, helped Dad with the grill not far (the Cooking Club not far away, helping where ever they could with a bit too much fervor to be completely subtle. I think it was because they felt like they were useful for something when they would claim to not be more often than not). Eventually, the conversation turned to why I never talked about Mom’s family before (the record label’s span reached too far...I wasn’t a fan of the attention) and why I had never talked about the Solomon Islands before (it never came up before--plus, I was very busy trying to avoid being bullied for being half black before the events of eleventh grade occurred). Eventually, questions about the language and culture came. Of course, Mom didn’t mind piping up every now and then to correct me or talk about the language.

            “The official language is English, but we learned Solomon’s Pijin to keep the language alive.”

            “P...Pigeon? What? Solomon’s pigeon?” Maggie questioned, trying not to laugh. I could see several of the American exchange students weren’t far behind her.

            “Pi-jin,” I corrected. “It’s a language. Most of the traditions and stuff we have is similar to Melanesian's stuff. That’s because of how close we were…” Shrugging, I turned to look at my mom.

            “Hao nao iu?” Catching my gaze, she smiled gently with the immediate knowledge of what I wanted to do.

            “Mi olraet nomoa.” I smiled in return as Rin and Maggie’s eyes widened a margin. Arre rolled his eyes, prodding my side.

            “Hey, get over yourself. So what, you know three languages?”

            “Four, if you count knowing how to speak idiot. After all, I had to learn how to so I could communicate with my beloved cousin, yeah?” I grabbed his hand to prevent him from prodding me more as he let out a huff of outrage.

            “Weak, as always. You have to learn how to make better jabs, Em.”

            “Whatever, brat.” Looking back at my mom, I deadpanned while motioning to him, “Diswan hem bagarap. Mi dae nau!” She burst out laughing, using Dad as support as she chided me in Pijin, soon shaking it off when Dad tried, and failed, to make a quip in the same language.

            Things weren’t perfect.

            They might never be. But that was ok.

            Things were getting better.

            Not immediately, but...eventually. I realized that, sitting in that circle with my friends, my peers, my family...I wasn’t alone. Not really. I had never been alone. But I had been afraid. I had been afraid for so, so long. I was only just starting to not be afraid anymore. But they made it easier to not be afraid.

            “-Right? Emi? The new club?” I jumped, looking at Takahashi with wide eyes.

            “Oh, yeah, sorry. We were thinking of starting a new club. Zombie Defense League...we train for the apocalypse and get certified in first aid care. Teach people how to defend themselves.” My smile was gentle. “We’ve gotten approval and a teacher to back us up. We’re funding it,” I paused. “...Though, the better question is, how’s the dojo? You getting back into karate easily, Taka?” I was given a pout and crossed arms in response.

            “Yeah, I’m getting back into  _ martial arts _ just fine! My injuries didn’t take too long to heal, and I’m going to be the club leader again next year. Dad was sour that I was our for so long, but...we’re ok now.”

            The conversation flowed back into clubs, hoping that no one would bring up my slip-up again. I had been spacing out a lot for the past two months. Lost in thought. Not many words in mind, but swirling emotions and busy images plentiful and lurking in the depths of my psyche.

            I tried to get up to help Mom and Dad hand out food, but Seskiel wrapped his arms around my waist to hug me and let out a tiny whine of protest. Groaning, I relented and let him hold me close, not missing the pout Himari sent as she leaned over to lay her head on my shoulder or Yuuto pointedly looking away.

            Dinner didn’t last long and, overall, a lot of progress was made. It didn’t look like the construction crew had much left to do besides clean up the ponds and nearby beach area, which I would help with next weekend. I refused to admit that I was scared to see the bluffs again.

            I didn’t want to see the caked blood on the rough boulders below, jutting from the water like the spikes of some strange, resting beast.

            Finally, the time came where most of the volunteers took their leave, the sun slowly sinking below the tree line to the point where one wouldn’t be able to see the last rays of light through the thickets. That let Mom, Dad, Arre, Seskiel, Rin, Len, Himari, and Yuuto to hang around afterward. The marshmallows roasted over the open grill were bittersweet, and I couldn’t truly bring myself to stomach one. Instead, I took the route of making myself look weird by melting the chocolate onto the crackers that were set out. It earned a few laughs, and that was enough to mask the ugly dread at the pit of my stomach.

            Afterward, Mom and Dad retired to the basement to watch TV before bed and I took everyone else up to my room. It was subtly suggested that it was a long time since we had a sleepover--and the thought of not being alone in the night was a comforting one.

            Apart from having to pry Arre and Len off of a screeching Yuuto (Len and Arre refused to acknowledge that some men just didn’t like having their nails or makeup done) with Rin, the night continued on without much more struggle. As everyone around us slowly fell asleep and the movie we had set up on my computer wound to a close, I sat leaning against Seskiel as I stared blankly at the popcorn ceiling.

            It had been a long day. A long month, really. A long year. So much had happened, so many people were lost, so many moments missed and sleepless nights. Insomnia, my therapist had told me. Better to write it down, write out the pain, write until my hands went numb because there were so many immaculate, nonsensical words that could only begin to describe what I saw in those days or during those strange nights where I had begun to dream. Dreams were scary, now. Even the good ones. Especially the good ones, because you knew when you had one, the other shoe would have to drop and eventually you would be back to the same sleepless, hellish nights.

            But I felt more at ease then. In that moment, in a room full of scattered friends, Seskiel holding me from behind while Himari clutched my hands and Yuuto sat close by, looking like a guard dog even in his sleep.

            I wasn’t alone.

            And slowly but surely, whether sparked from my slowly growing numbness or the determination to rise above everything and live, I was starting not to be scared.

            “...Emi…” I heard a murmur behind me. Thinking Seskiel had just woken up, I patted his leg reassuringly.

            “It’s ok, big guy, just a bit of insomnia. I’ll sleep soon.”

            “...Good…” Hugging me a bit tighter, a chill went down my spine. “Because I can’t have what’s mine and will always be mine and mine alone keep unhealthy habits.”

            My heart dropped and the air caught in my lungs. Just as I was about to push him away and scream, Seskiel burst out laughing from behind me, unsuccessfully trying to stifle it.

            “S-Sorry, Emi, I just couldn’t-!” Tightening my fists, I huffed and pushed up, moving to go scramble under my covers instead. Torn between genuine fear paired with intrusive thoughts and the love of my friend, knowing it was a harmless joke. I heard his whine from across the room and pointedly turned away.

            “Nope. If you’re gonna be a jerk tonight, no platonic cuddles for you. You can sleep alone, bud.” Ignoring any further complaints, I felt how slowly, the room went silent again, and from the snoring across the room, I knew Seskiel had fallen asleep, too.

            …Things might never be perfectly ok again. But really, I couldn’t ever expect them to be.

            I was alive and I wasn’t alone. That was all that mattered.


End file.
